A Low Life on a Bloodred Ruby
by Lady Lianna Kari
Summary: Bardock begins at a local fighting school on Planet Vegeta, age ten. Story follows him through adulthood. Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z. RATE ME, PLEASE! THANX. Editing chapter updates in progess!
1. Saiyan School

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z is the intellectual and financial property of Akira Toriyama. I receive no financial compensation for writing fanfiction. I merely get the fantastical pleasure of playing in his world, and you get the pleasure..or displeasure…of reading the result.

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**Saiyan School**

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Twenty years had passed since the Saiyan-Tuffle wars. When the Saiyans had complete control of what was renamed Planet Vegeta, an ambitious family of planet brokers arrived on Planet Vegeta to court the budding empire. That was ten years ago. Now, the name Frieza was as common as the words Saiyan and fight, and not for a good reason. In exchange for limitless fights and improved technologies, the Saiyans had bartered whatever freedoms they had obtained from the wars. As a result, everything on Vegeta had Frieza's name on it…even if it wasn't visibly stuck on there.

Frieza had implemented a socioeconomic classing system based on power levels that decided everything about a person's life: how much money a Saiyan made, what Saiyans to socialize, how the Saiyan would be treated by others. Which class an individual was placed in depended on the power level one held at birth. Naturally, since some were older when the system was created, those older would have a chance of improving their odds. The infants, however, had no shot of improving their circumstance. If they were labeled Low-Level, they stayed Low-Level.

It was in this world that a small boy would begin his first day at Frieza Star Primer Fighters. He began his day with a warm up run, twenty-six miles into the city. He started the timer on his Keeper, and began the run. Ten minutes later, Bardock had entered Vegeta City. He slowed to a comfortable trot, and wended his way down the busy street.

Bardock was small for his age. Although he was ten years old, other Saiyans his year were at least a head taller…even the shortest ones. His characteristic North-and-West untidy spiked hair almost looked bigger than him. His short frame in no ways hid his strength in body or in mind. His body was unusually defined, especially amongst other Low-Levels. His ten-year-old face held an intense expression of experiential wisdom, something unusual in any child, more-or-less a Saiyan. As he continued his path toward the school, anxious thoughts invaded the calm.

"Better be on your toes, Bardock. On the first day of school, we Elites stick the heads of newbie Low-Levels in the school toilets," Nordack, his older brother had teased with a grin.

"Huh, I want _you_ to be the first to try _that_ on me," Bardock had said with a mischievous smirk. Nordack shrugged. Ten years of living with Bardock had taught Nordack not to underestimate him, even if he was a Low-Level.

Bardock knew his brother. Nordack, however strong, wasn't all that scary. It was the unknown Bardock was afraid of. He had heard the horror stories of the Elites. The Elites were the highest class of Saiyans on Vegeta. Some Elites were level-headed, but many were exceedingly arrogant. It was those that Bardock feared. The ones that would crunch someone's skull underfoot, just because they had the ability.

As the school came into view, Bardock tried to clear his mind. He looked at his Keeper. _Oh, great. I'm thirty minutes early._ Slowly and reluctantly, he trotted toward the front of the building, where at least fifty other students had arrived. He chose a spot of grass to sit, near the building where he could rest his back against the wall. Sure enough, a group of tall kids approached. One boy, the tallest, led the pack as he spotted Bardock.

"Oooh, lookie here, men. It's a newbie. Hey newbie, what's your power ranking?" The leader asked, hoping for a target.

Bardock knew what was coming. He decided to take the offensive. "My power is that my IQ is _over _twenty."

The girls giggled. The boy scowled, and then he grinned. "Heh, then you're either a brave Elite…or a stupid Low-Level. Don't you even _know_ who I am?"

"No…I am still figuring out _what_ you are." A girl, obviously a Low-Level, winced as the entire group of Elites laughed raucously while the boy stared with an evil grin.

"I like you, kid. You've got nerve. Tell you what; I'll forgive you, if you kiss the teacher, ZorLa. If not, I'm gonna stomp you so hard, your momma'll feel it." The growing crowd oohed.

Bardock's gaze never faltered. "Why wait?" The Low-Level girl gasped.

The boy laughed wildly. He leveled his eyes at Bardock. "Why indeed?" He stepped forward, when-

"Bardock!" Nordack soared through the sky and landed neatly on the grounds beside him. "Why did you go off so early?" Nordack noticed the tall boy, and instantly his eyes narrowed.

The tall boy's eyes popped dangerously, but he didn't attack. Instead, he snorted. "You know this crazy ape?"

Nordack shrugged. "Sure. He's my parents' accident." The crowd burst out laughing. Bardock glared at his older brother.

The tall boy jerked his head toward Bardock. "Well, if he's an accident, then surely you won't mind if I pommel him?"

Nordack grinned. "Sure, SorKala, sure. If you score me a date with your sister."

SorKala scoffed. "Fat chance."

Nordack shook his head, grinning. "Aw, _that's_ too bad. I understand that Bardock makes a fine punching bag. Let's go, twerp."

Bardock didn't move, but continued to scowl at his brother.

"Now!"

Silence. Annoyed, Nordack swung a punch at his brother. Bardock grinned as the punch went straight through his head. Slowly, the image of Bardock disappeared. Everyone nearby stared in shock at the boy's sudden disappearance. Suddenly, Nordack cried out and collapsed on the ground. Bardock had crept behind him and grasped his tail.

"You…little…shrimp," Nordack weakly gasped, as onlookers stared in shock.

SorKala turned to one of his friends. "I thought you said he was a Low-Level."

Nordack scoffed and winced in pain. "He is, but when has Bardock _ever_ learned to follow the rules? What are you waiting for? Get him!"

SorKala cackled happily. "I would, Nordack, but I'm enjoying this way too much. I can just read the school paper headlines: 'Elite student gets 'tailed' by Low-Level Baby Brother.'" The crowd erupted in laughter.

"Let go," Nordack growled. Smiling, Bardock complied. Nordack stood quickly, brushing off his front. He glared at his younger brother.

"You're dead meat, kid."

"Okay," Bardock replied cheerfully. Nordack gaped stupidly.

"I mean it, Bardock! You're toast!"

"Sure."

Nordack continued to glare. Finally, he growled. "IDIOT!" he bellowed, and stormed away. The crowd began to disperse.

"That was cool, kid," a voice said. Bardock turned to see SorKala looking at him.

"Well, thanks, but I didn't do it for fanfare. I did it because he's a great bullying jerk wad."

SorKala grinned. "You've got a lot of moxy for a Low-Level. Not at lot of your kind would get away with what you just did."

Bardock shook his head. "It was all his fault. Father keeps telling him to train his tail."

SorKala looked surprised. "Train his tail?"

"Of course. Father says that you are only as strong as your biggest weakness."

SorKala nodded appreciatively. "Train your tail…huh. I see. Well, I've gotta run. Thanks for the tip, kid."

Bardock watched him fly toward the school courtyard. He scratched his head with his tail. _What tip?_

* * *

The new students gathered into the auditorium. A female Saiyan stepped to the front of the group. "_Quiet_, you litte Saiyan maggots!" When the room was filled with silence, she gave a curt nod of approval and continued. "Welcome to Frieza Star Primer Academy for Elite Fighters," several whoops were heard throughout the auditorium, "Silence!!! Now…some of you can attend here because you scored elite status on your infantile power testing. And others…are here because their parents can afford the costly tuition.

"Whatever path has brought you here, you will be provided with the best training known to Saiyan kind. You will be pushed to limitless expectations. You will be stretched beyond your normal limitations. It is our duty as strength and power educators to provide the best training to bring out the best in each individual. Now, when I call your name, I will tell you whether to go through the left door or the right door. If some of you idiots cannot distinguish left from right, there is a readable sign above each. Please note when I say left or right, I am indicating your left or right, not mine. Now.

"AshKapi, right." A very proud boy stood and took the door to the right.

"Bakarot, right." A pretty, demure girl with purple hair stood.

"Bardock, left." Several gasped as Bardock stood and took the door on the left. As he left, he heard the woman continue.

"CatChup, left. CopTon, right. Fasha, left…" He closed the door and followed a long hall. Down the hall the first door on the right had a sign that said "Freshman in here." Bardock sniffed skeptically. He looked around. There! A water hose was wound around a wheel. Bardock tugged it gently. It quietly gave way.

"What are you doing?" the Low-Level girl from before asked.

"Shhh! See that sign? That is a trap, and _I'm_ not going to fall for it. Instead, _we're_ gonna trap them!"

The few children congregating in the halls stared at him with a mortified curiosity. Bardock pulled some salt from his bag with a few other items. He emptied his water bottle and filled partially it with his ingredients. He then placed a small packet in the top of the lid. _I have always wanted to try this!_

He managed to get a volunteer from the increasing number of students in the hall. "Hold this upright. Don't drop it!" He then rotated the water wheel. Finally, he put his hand on the door knob and flung it wide open, releasing the water pressure on the cuff. As the pranksters became distracted by the water, Bardock grabbed the bottle, threw it into the room, grabbed the volunteer and hustled five meters from the door. The explosion told him what he wanted to hear. Moments later, a group of teen pranksters filed out of the room covered in a slimy, sticky purple substance. The hallway echoed as the Low-Level newbies burst into laughter because of their ingenius classmate. Bardock grinned from ear-to-ear until he saw the last teen.

"Nordack!" Upon hearing his name, Nordack ran from the scene, pushing his partners in crime away and slipping in goo.

"Heh heh heh ha ha, that was awesome!" His volunteer laughed, tears streaming from his eyes.

But suddenly silence fell as the woman who called their names approached the group. Angrily, she pointed at Bardock and his volunteer. "You two! Follow me."

Bardock followed reluctantly, but his companion appeared enthralled. "I am Torra," he whispered, beaming. "Who are you?"

"Bardock."

"Silence!" The woman glared at them over her shoulder. They followed the woman into an office. She closed the door, whipped around, and broke into a wide smile. "I have been teaching at this school for twenty years, and I haven't ever seen a stunt like that!"

Bardock and Torra looked at each other, surprised. "Huh?"

"That was fantastic! I was hoping someone would get them for their loathsome tricks. I would have never guessed it would be at the hands of two Low-Levels! Congratulations!"

"Er, thanks." Bardock looked at his companion, who shrugged in confusion.

The woman nodded. "Now, even though you have my compliments, you did break a few school rules. Therefore, I have no choice but to charge and sentence you to detention."

"Er, charge and sentence?" Bardock's eyes narrowed, but Torra looked as though Super Saiyan Day had come three months early.

"Really? Will our names be in the paper?"

The woman raised her eyebrows. "Now, Torra. Don't you be breaking school rules just to have your name in the school newspaper."

Torra cleared his throat. "Of course, ma'am. So, what's for detention?"

* * *

Torra quickly became a daily visitor to Bardock's house. Both Bardock and Torra served their detentions: they had to wash the mess out of the bathroom, which was where the stunt took place. They also had to run ten thousand laps around the Elite's running track. _What a punishment, _Bardock thought sardonically as he merrily skipped around the track. Torra, however, appeared miserable. Bardock slowed his pace and waited on his friend.

"Come on, Torra. You can do it. There's only three thousand five hundred eighty-six left."

Torra moaned. "I can't. You go ahead. I'll meet up with you." Torra stopped in the middle of the track.

Bardock stopped, intensely staring. "I'm staying until you finish."

Torra scowled. "Why? I don't need your help to finish."

Bardock frowned. Why was Torra attacking him? Bardock stared at his companion, trying to find a way to help his friend without making him feel vulnerable about it. Bardock smirked. "Yeah, Torra, because you are _so_ strong," he said, voice dripping with as much sarcasm as he could muster. Cackling, he raced down the track. But with his back turned, Bardock winced. He hated being mean to his friend.

As he turned to look back, however, he received a shock. Torra was at his heels, with an angry determination on his face. Bardock grinned mischievously. _You want to race me…me?_ Bardock immediately quickened his pace, but not so much that Torra would be blown away. He looked back at Torra. Torra's facial muscles were twitching. Bardock grinned. _He really wants it…he wants to beat me. Good…maybe that's what he needs...is a goal. _He looked back. Torra was one stride behind. Bardock increased his pace a little more. Torra growled in frustration. Bardock laughed. Torra sped up.

Bardock looked at the board. Only one lap to go. Before they got to the last stretch, Bardock slowed down so fast that Torra crossed the ending first. Bardock approached him and pat his arm.

"_See_ what you can do when you've got the right motivation?"

Torra's jaw dropped. "You…you planned that whole thing, didn't you?"

"Well, I _planned_ on making you angry enough to finish. You being angry enough to attempt to race me were an added bonus." Bardock laughed.

Torra grinned. "You were holding back, too, weren't you?"

"Maybe a little."

Torra snorted. "Alright, but you better be prepared next time, because next time I'll win fair and square."

Bardock laughed. "Great. I look forward to it. Next time, you can eat my dust." Grinning, the boys turned in their punch cards to the coach and began walking toward Bardock's house.

"Bardock, can I ask you something?"

"Hmm?"

"How is it that you tested Low-Level?"


	2. Clash of the Classed

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z is the intellectual and financial property of Akira Toriyama. I receive no financial compensation for writing fanfiction. I merely get the fantastical pleasure of playing in his world, and you get the pleasure..or displeasure…of reading the result

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**Chapter Two: Clash of the Classed**

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Bardock and Torra's bond became strong that year. Although both were put into the Low-Level classes, the Fight Arena Master, ZorLa, had taken an interest in both boys. She, who had caught them reverse pranking a band of Elites, gave them special training in the afternoons. She became immensely impressed by Torra's practical side and Bardock's unyielding loyalty. He counted it the highest dishonor to give up on himself or his friends.

ZorLa had noticed that he was a favorite even among some of the Elites. SorKala, Frieza Prime's most promising student and tested Super Elite, had taken a personal liking to the boy. But above all, ZorLa admired Bardock's complete ignoral of the Power Class System. Bardock absolutely refused to be hindered by his peers, teacher, or other authority figures. He cared nothing about being a Low-Level. All he wanted was to get stronger. She smiled as she recalled the events of last week. She had seen Bardock approach SorKala.

"SorKala, fight me."

"Why, Bardock? You'll just lose. Last time, I beat the crap out of you. If you keep this up, I am going to kill you."

"I haven't died yet, SorKala. Fight me." SorKala sighed heavily and chose a fighting posture. It was over in two minutes.

"Why, Bardock? Why do you insist on challenging me? You knew I'd win…that I'd beat you. "

Bardock's bloody mass grinned, if that was even possible. "The only way I can get stronger…" he weakly rasped, "…if if I fight the strongest opponents. You're the strongest person here. I have to fight you."

SorKala shook his head. "I'll never understand you, kid. Why does a Low-Level like you even concern himself with getting as strong as me?"

Bardock slowly lifted his head from the pavement. "Low-Level," he said with a weak, sneering voice. "I am _not_ going to allow that _stupid_ level testing to keep me from achieving the results I desire! It's _stupid_, completely relying on a single test to determine a person's potential. Ridiculous…how did we evaluate a Saiyan's strength before the infantile power testing? Giving up one's aspirations because of a silly little test is stupid! It's stupid, and it's _wrong_!"

ZorLa had heard and watched as SorKala listened with a mingled expression of fear, amusement, and pity. Those became quickly replaced with a new feeling: admiration. SorKala had always known that Bardock was special, unique, and talented for a Low-Level. In fact, SorKala was beginning to realize the boy's uniqueness among all Saiyans.

As he hoisted Bardock's broken body over his shoulder to deliver him home, SorKala's mind wandered thoughtfully. He had never thought about it before.

SorKala had begun to question the purpose and adequacy of power testing. Bardock was a Low-Level, but he exceeded expectations that the regime had for Low-Levels. In fact, Bardock was currently physically capable of handling any Mid-Level student at Frieza Star. The more SorKala thought about it, the more decided he became.

* * *

Traditionally, the Low-Levels had never worn their power status patches on their uniform…probably because they were too embarrassed. The day SorKala showed up on campus without his patch became a turning point in his life. His Super Elite instructor demanded that he replace the patch. He refused.

"There are no high levels or low levels…only Saiyans. We should be proud of the whole race, not just a select Elite. The only reason why the Low-Levels stay weak is because no one will invest their time in them." That day Bardock and Torra had carried SorKala home. The instructor had become so enraged that he nearly beat his prized student to death.

"You realize, of course," he said to Bardock weakly, grinning, "that this is all your fault."

"It's nice to get to carry _you_ home for once. Usually, it's the other way around."

"Heh."

Bardock and Torra never got SorKala to his house. His parents had been called. Furious, they demanded that SorKala put his patch on and apologize to his instructor. SorKala tried to persuade them that the infantile power testing was a flawed system. His parents became angry and refused to permit him in…even to get his things or use the rejuvenation tank. So Bardock took him to his house, instead.

A people known for level-headedness and generosity…well, as generous as Saiyans _could_ be…Bardock's father welcomed SorKala to the house and allowed him to stay. SorKala thanked him weakly, and Bardock made him feel at home in the nearest rejuvenation tank.

SorKala returned to school in the following weeks. Seemingly overnight, all had learned of his disgrace at Frieza Star. All of his Elite friends had turned their backs on him, taking his stance as a form of betrayal. His Super Elite instructor, hoping to scare sense into him, had suspended him from his class. SorKala began to attend class with his weaker Elite classmates. The majority of the classmates angrily ignored him as he passionately argued his position. Eventually, he was forbade to speak in class at all, all in an effort to change his mind. But SorKala persisted.

Although he didn't know it, SorKala's defiance had stirred a spark in the Low-Level classes. His ideals lit a flame in the hearts and minds of the young Saiyans. Suddenly, the Low-Level instructors found themselves stunned at the level of performance of the "weaker" Saiyans. ZorLa watched in amazed pleasure as the Low-Levels banded together, lifting one another and encouraging each other. Their new determination to defy the classing system amused some and angered others.

Even the teachers' emotions were on the high burner. A reprimand from top levels came on the school after the Super Elite Instructor attacked one of the Low-Level teachers in front of his own students. The rift between the Elites and Low-Levels reached an all time high, while Mid-Levels chose whether to side with the Elites or the underdogs. Some Mid-Levels followed Bardock's lead and began increasing their strength and skill. Seemingly overnight, the weakest Mid-Levels became a challenge to even the average Elite.

It became a war to determine the strongest. Caught into the spirit of competition, the Low-Level instructors pushed their students to new heights, using SorKala and Bardock as the hero examples. The Elites, feeling their pedestal threatened, worked even harder to keep their lessers beneath them. As the war continued, Frieza Star's power stats continued to increase. ZorLa chuckled at the efforts…and the results. As the only Saiyan Instructor at Frieza Star not currently blinded by pride and the infamous Saiyan rage, she could see the benefits of the little skirmish. This new development in Saiyan politics had, if nothing else, boosted the school's image of producing the world's most strongest fighters. As principal of the school, she was going to milk this for everything it was worth.

The war at Frieza Star wasn't without casualties. In the end, SorKala left Frieza Star. He decided that he had out grown it. He hadn't learned anything new since the day Bardock had told him about training his tail.

"I'll quit, too," Bardock began.

"No, Bardock."

"Why not?"

"Because. The Low-Levels at Frieza Star all look up to you. You are their example, their ideal. You _have_ to be there. They need you, your strength, your determination. They need a leader, Bardock, a goal to achieve. Unless they have that, they are going to settle for their mediocrity. You can be that leader. Look at how far Torra has come because of you. He never passed the Low-Level endurance tests before you came along. You motivated him. You challenged him. He's almost quadrupled his strength this year."

"He did that by himself."

"He never would have if he didn't meet you. Even Fasha, the weakest Low-Level at Frieza Star, has achieved new levels because of you," he grinned, "of course, she could just be trying to impress you. She likes you, thinks you're a cute Saiyan."

"Shut up," Bardock punched his shoulder. "She's silly. She likes you, too, Mr. Super Elite. But trust me, she'll end up with Torra in the end."

SorKala laughed heartily, believing Bardock was joking. "Stay at Frieza Star, at least for now."

But staying at Frieza Star became easier said than done. The Super Elite instructor somehow suspected Bardock of changing SorKala and causing him to lose the most talented fighter he had ever had. He went out of his way to make Bardock's school life miserable. He even beat Bardock to the point of near death several times.

But Bardock endured. He returned each day that year, and his efforts paid off. By the end of the year Bardock's speed and strength had increased so much that ZorLa could barely keep up. Even Torra was barely recognizable from his substantial endurance increase. The once fearful and timid Fasha became more skilled and confident, revealing her to have a flirty, sarcastic, and precocious personality.

As Bardock had predicted, Fasha turned her flirty gaze on Torra. Torra, who had never held a female's interest, welcomed the advance whole heartedly. They quickly became an item. Her now frequent presence among the two expedited her improvements in power and skill. She had become ever present at the home of Bardock. The threesome would engage in daily sparring with SorKala. It required, of course, all three youngsters to begin to present a challenge for the Super Elite fighter. Following Bardock's advice, SorKala had trained his tail, which made him nearly impossible to beat.

Remarkably, Nordack, Bardock's older brother, had taken to the changes quite well. While SorKala had attended Frieza Star, Nordack had considered him to be a rival. He had treated SorKala the same as the other Elites had when he had first rejected class status. But when SorKala left Frieza Star, Nordack became polite, even friendly. Nordack no longer viewed him as a threat. Their rivalry became more rounded and friendly. They teamed up as sparring partners; because their levels were closer together, their strength and skill improved with each match.

As a result, Nordack filled SorKala's place as the Super Elite at Frieza Star. Although not verbal about his new views about infantile classes, Nordack revealed his feeling by the respectful treatment of all of his peers. The Low-Levels slowly came to respect Nordack and added him to their list of leaders. With the top spot in the school claimed once more, the situation diffused, and life at the school returned to as normal as life at a Saiyan fighting school could become. At that time, ZorLa stepped up to her responsibilities as leading instructor and encouraged the use of friendly competition as a further stimulant to motivate the students into higher achievements.

* * *

As the first year came to a close, ZorLa summoned Bardock and Torra to her office. She chuckled. "Well, I guess I'm gonna have to train during school break just to keep up with you two next year."

Bardock and Torra grinned at each other. They planned on spending the break taking turns fighting SorKala.

"I suppose you two are going to be training as well?" Both boys nodded, grinning.

"I don't normally do this boys, most consider it a waste of time to teach Low-Levels the technique…how do you feel about flying lessons?"

"NO WAY!" Torra exclaimed excitedly. "Us? Flying?!"

ZorLa nodded. "You two show great promise. So, I'll tell you what. I'll swing by your house every day and teach you something…and one of those things will be how to fly. In exchange, I want to continue our sparring. That way, I can keep up with you, and you can improve your technique. Do we have a deal?"

"Deal!" Both boys had said immediately. They looked at each other in disbelief. It was going to be an interesting summer.


	3. I Am Bardock

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z is the intellectual and financial property of Akira Toriyama. I receive no financial compensation for writing fanfiction. I merely get the fantastical pleasure of playing in his world, and you get the pleasure..or displeasure…of reading the result.

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**Chapter Three: I am Bardock**

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Seven days after the end of school, ZorLa had arrived to a dismal household. SorKala had left two days earlier; he had been conscripted into one of Frieza's elite squads. Bardock's father had received a two year assignment and would be leaving shortly. Summarily, Bardock and his brother would be alone for the next two years. On the upside, Torra had moved into the house. It was good for both boys: Bardock having the permanent company of a friend, and Torra finally having a stable home situation.

Being Torra's friend for around ten months, a silent understanding between Bardock and Torra had been arranged. Torra didn't speak about his home life, and Bardock didn't ask. As curious as he was about Torra's family, Bardock had learned early on not to question his friend on the subject. Bardock had often observed Torra's reaction to family talk. At first, Bardock had wondered whether Torra was embarrassed concerning his family's power. But as he watched his friend respond to all attempts to bring him into conversations, Torra appeared both shamed and angry. Bardock had the feeling that Torra's shame had nothing to do with the weakness of his parents.

As Torra became acclimated to his new home, Bardock had seen a change in Torra's demeanor. Torra was always easy going, but he seemed elated at the opportunity to live at Bardock's house. Also, Bardock had never realized how unhealthy Torra was until he began living at the house. When Torra changed his clothes (Bardock and Torra shared a room), Bardock noted his thinness. As Torra turned his back, Bardock gasped. Torra turned to his friend with a quizzical look. The quizzical look became a look of horror as Torra realized what Bardock had seen. Bardock had discovered Torra's secret. It was as plain as the scars on Torra's back. Bardock's face contorted with rage.

"Why…didn't…you…say…anything?" Bardock hissed dangerously.

Torra shrugged. "Doesn't matter."

"Doesn't matter?! Those aren't battle scars, Torra! What did they do, hold you down? There's no honor in that!"

Torra snarled. "Shut up! You're incredibly naïve, Bardock! Living here with a father and brother who pamper you-"

"What are you talking about? My father's so ashamed of my power status; he won't be seen in public with me."

"Oh, how _silly_ of me! That really puts _my pain_ into perspective, doesn't it? At least your father doesn't treat you like a woman!" Torra spat bitterly. The two gasped simultaneously. Torra had said more than he meant to. He left the room.

* * *

ZorLa looked at her two pupils. She could tell that something had happened. "Alright, what's going on?" As she looked from one to the other, she saw Torra give Bardock a pleading look. Bardock looked away angrily.

"Nothing," Torra replied plaintively. Bardock harrumphed.

"Bardock, why are you mad at Torra?"

"I AM NOT MAD AT TORRA! I AM MAD AT- oh, never mind! Let's just spar!" Bardock put up his defenses and charged ZorLa. ZorLa was stunned; even on Bardock's best days he had never given this much difficulty. Bardock pulled back and glared at Torra. "_Your_ turn," he growled.

Torra blinked. Bardock scowled and charged ZorLa again. ZorLa blocked Bardock's kick and managed to punch Bardock to the ground. "That's enough, Bardock! Either tell me what's got you ruffled or don't bother charging me again."

"Fine! What about flying?"

"Oh, no! The bargain was that we spar in exchange for flying-"

"Then why are we standing here? Let's go!"

"I don't know what you're problem is, Bardock-"

"My problem is that I am going to kill someone!"

Torra's eyes suddenly became wide. "No, Bardock!"

Bardock glared at Torra. "You have a baby brother, Torra! Can you guess what's going to happen?"

Torra gasped. ZorLa looked from one boy to the other. Torra nodded slowly. "I didn't think about that. Maybe we should…go get the others."

"And if your…_idiot_ interferes, I'll kill him! Maybe I'll kill him anyways, for the fun of it!" Torra winced but nodded. Completely forgetting ZorLa, Torra sped west toward the mountains. Bardock followed. ZorLa flew after them.

"Hey! Where you two going?"

Bardock didn't break his speed. "Got a little business to handle. You may want to come back tomorrow."

ZorLa raised a brow. "Oh, I don't think so. Something tells me this isn't going to be a social call."

The boys exchanged glances. "Suit yourself."

* * *

The place was a mess. A crumbling shack stood in the debris at the bottom of the sloping topography. ZorLa landed softly beside the boys.

"Come out!" Bardock shouted. Torra winced, glancing at the hamlet fearfully. Silence had followed the echoes, casting doubt as to whether anyone inhabited the dingy building. Suddenly, a giant figure appeared in the doorway. Catching sight of Torra, he laughed loudly.

"So, the little _man_ has returned! I missed you, _boy_!" The man cackled. ZorLa frowned at the man's boisterous behavior. Torra shivered.

Bardock glared. "We're taking the children. Don't interfere!"

The man smirked. "Oh, _really_? Torra, I appreciate the little trinkets you brought me. I must think of a way to reward you." Torra paled. "Especially the woman."

ZorLa sneered. "Who is that disgusting beast?"

Bardock grimaced. "Do you really want to know? I fight first." He approached the man. "Where are the children?"

"Heh. You sure got a loud mouth, pretty boy."

Bardock placed his finger under his eye and tugged his flesh, sticking out his tongue. "Don't worry. You won't be hearing much of anything pretty soon."

The giant grinned. "You've got nerve, boy. Tell you what. I'm feeling generous. Kill that sniveling wretch of a son over there, and I'll let you take his place." ZorLa looked from Torra to Bardock, comprehension suddenly dawning.

Bardock grinned evilly. "Or we could just kill you and take the others. Either way, they are coming with us."

The man growled menacingly at Bardock; then, he laughed loudly. "Oh, no! The scary children and woman are going to hurt me!"

Bardock scowled. "Enough! Either produce the children, or prepare to die!"

"Fool! You're the ones who are going to die…nice and slow." With incredible speed, the giant launched himself at Bardock; the blow from his punch knocked Bardock thirty meters.

"He's Elite!" ZorLa exclaimed.

The man cackled, lerring at her. "Yeah, _baby_! Come here. I'll give you some of _this_ for free!"

"Impertinent pig!" She shouted disgustedly. The man continued laughing and heckling Torra and ZorLa. Bardock stirred and got on his feet. The man whipped around in shock.

"What?! There's no way a Low-Level could survive an attack like that!"

Bardock scoffed, rubbing the side of his head. "Well, I guess it's a good thing I am not as reliant on the class system as _you_ are." He gestured around him. "What do you do with all of your money anyways? Elites are supposed to be rich."

"Booze," Torra said quietly.

"Shut up, _boy_," the man snapped at Torra, causing him to jump. He glared at Bardock. "You're quite impressive for a Low-Level."

"Save the flattery. I want the children!"

"You want them? You have to kill me to get them."

"My pleasure." The two glared at each other. The man lunged for Bardock, attempting the same attack as before. His punch slid right through Bardock's head. The man looked around frantically as the image of the boy slowly vanished. Suddenly, the man shrieked in pain and collapsed to the ground. Bardock stood behind him, tail in hand. Bardock immediately began pummeling his opponent. After half an hour, Bardock released his tail and strode away.

"Torra, go inside and find the children." Torra's eyes widened fearfully.

"Bardock, look out!" Bardock gasped as the man grabbed Bardock's tail.

The brute, heavily winded and bruised, smiled unpleasantly. "Heh heh. Now it's my turn!"

Bardock giggled. "That kinda tickles."

"What?!" The man shouted as Bardock round-house kicked him, sending the man flying thirty meters. Both ZorLa and Torra stared as Bardock's tail swished excitedly. Bardock glared at Torra.

"Now, Torra! Go get the children!"

As Torra ran the distance toward the shack, Torra's father burst from the ground and charged his son. Torra froze, his eyes wide with shock. Just as the giant had reached Torra, Bardock had appeared above Torra's head, his feet collided with the man's face. Bardock landed neatly in front of Torra as the man skidded away.

"_I'm_ your opponent!" he snarled. Torra rushed inside the shack. The man slowly rose to his feet, glaring at Bardock.

"What kind of beast _are_ you?" he bellowed at the boy.

"You're the beast, not me," Bardock explained calmly, "You don't deserve to have a family. You're just a heartless animal."

The brute growled angrily. "You Low-Level trash! How dare you! I'm going to shut you up permanently!" He raised his left hand, facing his palm toward the boy. Bardock patiently waited, smirking.

ZorLa gasped fearfully. "Bardock, _no_!"

A large energy blast shot from the brute's hand, quickly descending on Bardock's current position. Bardock raised his hands toward the oncoming attack, spreading his feet apart and stabilizing his core. He took the blast head on. The force of the energy caused Bardock to skid ten meters; the friction from the attack began burning Bardock's hands. Finally, Bardock managed to divert the massive ball away; it exploded in the forest nearby. Torra's father gawked at Bardock in shock.

Bardock chuckled. "Now it's my turn." He raced toward the giant with his fist pulled back. "HEAT PHALANX!" Bardock bellowed, and his fist glowed with power. He drove his fist into the brute's face, feeling the cracking of bone and tissue as the giant sailed into the air and landed twenty-five meters away with a Vegeta-shaking thud. Sensing no stirring, Bardock looked toward the shack. Torra cautiously emerged, leading two small boys and carrying a small girl. Grinning at the distant lump on the ground, Torra handed the girl off to Bardock, picking up one of the boys, instead. ZorLa picked up the last child, and all headed toward the gate.

"GRRRRRRRRR!" All three whipped around to see the brute charging them angrily. Bardock held the child, frozen in his position. Suddenly, a large Ki blast struck the man; he flew backwards, shrieking painfully as he struck the dirt for the final time. Bardock looked around and received a shock. Torra had his palm stretched in the direction where his father had been attacked, a look of cold fury on his face.

Torra quickly turned and began trotting in the direction of Bardock's house without looking back. Bardock glanced back at the feebly stirring man in the dirt. Despite the whimpering protests from the fragile child in his arms, he approached him. The man glared somewhat fearfully at the boy.

Bardock sneered disgustedly, but he spoke quietly. "If you ever mistreat anyone again, I'll come back…and I really will kill you. That's a promise." He turned and left.

As they trotted toward the compound, Bardock examined the child in his arms. She was weak and fragile. She had unusually silky dark brown hair and strange dark brown eyes. She looked up mournfully at him. "Who are you?" she asked softly.

"I am Bardock," he answered. "And you…what's your name?"

"My name is Kari." As he carried her, Bardock couldn't help but smile at the child's awestruck expression.

* * *

The days went by quickly. ZorLa, true to her word, taught the boys and Fasha flying techniques. She marveled at their increased abilities and development. Torra had returned to his extroverted easy going ways, and Bardock had developed a deeper respect for his friend. The rescued children flourished and strengthened under the healthier household, and Bardock found himself trailed by an inquisitive almost-worshipful shadow. The child named Kari followed him like a puppy and ate up his words and attentions like candy. Bardock permitted it, knowing the environment from which she had come. As the hot Vegeta summer drew to a close, the boys made themselves ready for another year at Frieza Star.

ZorLa could hardly wait for the surprises in store.


	4. Top Classmen

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z is the intellectual and financial property of Akira Toriyama. I receive no financial compensation for writing fanfiction. I merely get the fantastical pleasure of playing in his world, and you get the pleasure..or displeasure…of reading the result..

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**Chapter Four: Top Classmen**

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* * *

Torra and Bardock raced one another to Frieza Star on foot. The fact that Torra could manage to still see the back of Bardock's uniform by the time they arrived subtly revealed what incredible progress the boy had made. Panting loudly, the boys collapsed underneath a nearby tree. Another year at the prestigious school was soon to start. It would be Nordack's last year at the primer. Next year, he would become a student at Cold Intermediary Academy for Elites. Cold Intermediary was highly selective; no Low-Level had ever succeeded at securing a slot there. But Bardock had the ambitions to try. Bardock rolled over and told Torra.

"Bardock, that's _crazy_! Even if by some _miracle_ you ended up going there, those Elites would tear you to pieces!"

"Yeah, I know," Bardock said with an excited sparkle in his eyes. "It would be the biggest challenge I ever faced…somehow, the very thought of it excites me. Hey, I know! Why don't we train for it together? Then I won't be alone when we get accepted."

Torra grinned at his friend's naiveté. "Like I said, crazy. But all right. It's not like I have anything better to do."

The bell rang, and the boys made it toward the Low-Level common room. ZorLa passed out everyone's class schedule. Bardock carefully examined his. His eyes widened.

"No way!" He exclaimed.

Torra looked on, puzzled. Silently and trembling silently, Bardock handed over his class schedule to Torra. Torra accepted it with a quizzical look. Thirty seconds later, he gasped.

He spluttered. "Y-You…you got MorKa?! That _cannot _be right...I think you should see ZorLa about that." Bardock walked over to her while Torra watched fearfully.

"Um…ZorLa?" He asked rather shyly. ZorLa turned to face him. She smiled.

"Hello, Bardock. I know what this is about. MorKa requested for you personally. Congratulations, you made top Low-Level!"

Bardock blinked. Then he frowned. "MorKa picked me? But why? MorKa tried to kill me all of last year. He couldn't have changed his mind."

"Bardock, you surprise me. Why don't you give MorKa a chance? He's really not that bad."

Bardock growled in annoyance. He had his reasons to be upset. MorKa was the Super Elite instructor. He taught the highest leveled students at Frieza star. He also got to select one deserving Low-Level every year for a one hour session two days a week. It was the Low-Level's highest honor to be selected. But MorKa had been the teacher that nearly killed SorKala. He had also attacked Bardock's teacher last year. Bardock had personally intervened when he thought MorKa was going to kill him, and it nearly cost him his own life.

To top things, Bardock hated everything to do with the class system. Even if he was selected as the best of Low-Levels, he was still a Low-Level. He didn't want to be singled out in that way; in a way it almost made him feel more inadequate.

"I don't want it!" Bardock spat bitterly.

ZorLa chuckled. "Bardock, you're too much! Besides, I can't do anything about it. You can try to persuade MorKa to change his mind, but I doubt it."

Bardock was sitting in his first class listening to his instructor when the door swung open. It was MorKa.

"I need Bardock," he growled. The instructor glared at him. He had been the one attacked by MorKa the previous year.

"Fine," he spat. "I want my student back in five minutes."

MorKa laughed, smirking. Bardock reluctantly left his seat.

"In one piece, MorKa!" he said as the door slammed.

MorKa tossed something at Bardock's feet. "Change into this!"

Bardock looked at it suspiciously. It was green and silver trimmed armor, boots, and gloves. Every student except the super elite wore plain white armor except the Super Elite and the top Low-Level. The white armored wore either a red or green, small, rectangular strip across the right breast-plate. While most Elites displayed their signifier proudly, most Low-Levels hid their designation with a strip of white cloth or paint. Bardock was no exception. He glared at MorKa.

"No Way!"

MorKa chuckled grimly. "It's too bad you have that attitude, Bardock. Your stubbornness may bring your friends to shame."

Bardock blinked angrily. "What do you mean?"

MorKa flashed a victory smile. "Well, I'll put it this way. If you don't put that on right now, you'll be carrying what's-his-name and his little girlfriend home every day that you remain obstinate. I won't be as gentle with them as I was to you, _little man_."

Bardock glared at the man for a while. Finally, he spoke. "Fine! I'll wear your stupid armor! But it doesn't change anything! I'll never rest until I have surpassed even the Elites!"

MorKa grinned broadly. "Yes, that's the spirit! It's nice to have dreams, isn't it, boy? Even if they are impossible!" He cackled.

Bardock angrily removed his armor. He reached down to pick up the hated replacement. It wouldn't budge.

"Hey! What's with this armor? I can't pick it up!"

MorKa cackled even more loudly as Bardock strained to lift the armor. "Need help, boy?" He picked up the armor with one hand and jammed it over Bardock's head, causing his eyes to water. Immediately, Bardock fell roughly onto his seat, looking bewildered. "I guess I forgot to mention; your new armor is fortified with weights. When you put on your gloves and boots, you should weigh three times as heavy."

"What?!"

"I'd sit gently in your school desk if I were you. Oh, by the way, you're forbidden to mention the armor's heaviness to any of your classmates, including your little friends."

"I hate you," Bardock said quietly.

He grinned. "Aw…don't feel that way, Bardock. We're just getting _started_. Save your hatred for later. What are you going to have left to feel when we _really_ get started, eh?" Picking up Bardock's discarded armor, he turned and left, laughing loudly as he went.

Bardock quickly put on his boots and gloves. They were also weighted somewhat. When he stepped into the classroom, everybody gasped. His teacher started and smiled.

"Top Low-Level? Congratulations, son!"

"Thanks," Bardock grumbled in a monotone as he slowly walked toward his desk. He sat down. Immediately, the desk crushed beneath him. Amidst chuckles, the instructor gave a knowing smile and pulled out a spare desk from the storage. The new desk was solid metal. It groaned from Bardock's weight, but didn't fall apart.

Torra nudged Bardock and whispered. "What just happened, Bardock? Did you gain sixteen hundred vegetos or something?" Bardock chuckled sheepishly.

The armor was beginning to annoy Bardock. Although other teachers had the foresight to have a metal desk ready before Bardock arrived, he wasn't so lucky in the school cafeteria. He crushed the first chair on which he sat. With no metal chairs, Bardock had to stand while he ate amid stares. Both Low-Levels and Elites exchanged whispers as they watched him. He glared at his sluggish arms; even eating felt like a chore. He slowly trudged toward the third class. Torra glanced back at him in concern.

"Are you okay, Bardock? You've been acting a little funny lately."

"I'm fine," Bardock sighed wearily.

"You look exhausted. Are you sure you're not sick?"

"I'm fine, Torra."

…

MorKa watched Bardock with a scowl.

"You needn't worry about him, MorKa. I already told you the boy could handle it."

MorKa glanced over at the speaker. "Hmph. Who said I was worried? Personally, I'd enjoy it if the boy was crushed. But it wasn't my idea to go straight to the 3X armor; it was yours, ZorLa."

ZorLa grinned. "You like him. But you're just as stubborn as he is, and you won't admit it."

"Hmph! I don't "like" anybody, ZorLa. "Liking" is for the weak."

ZorLa smiled coyly. "So you don't like _me_? After all we've been through, that hurts my _feelings_."

MorKa shot her a roguish grin. "Well, I wouldn't actually use the word 'like' to describe our relationship. I _did_ bite you first, after all."

She blushed. "Shh. Not so loud. We're still on school property."

"Hmph."

* * *

"Take off your armor, boy. I want you to be able to move freely for our lesson."

Bardock blushed. "I…can't"

"Can't? So…we've found something that the great and powerful Bardock can't handle, eh? Mmm…"

"Um, sir?"

"Quiet, boy! I'm savoring the memory."

Bardock glared at him. Noticing Bardock's look, MorKa laughed. He walked over and pulled the armor over his head like it was nothing.

"Now. Attack me. Don't hold back."

Bardock charged. MorKa swatted away his punches and kicks like they were nothing. After five minutes, Bardock landed, panting.

"S'that all you got, boy? Pathetic."

Glaring Bardock charged. "HEAT PHALANX!" he bellowed as he raised his fist. MorKa's eyes popped as he saw the fist charge flash energy. MorKa raised his arm, blocked the attack, and backhanded Bardock. Bardock hit the ground five meters away and skid three more. Bardock moaned painfully and slowly got to his feet.

MorKa chuckled. "That was pretty good, kid. You made my arm numb. No Low-Level has ever managed that."

"I'm not a Low-Level! I'm a Saiyan!" Bardock yelled shakily. Spending the entire day in the heavy armor had weakened and exhausted him, but he wasn't going to tell MorKa that.

"Foolish boy! Your stubbornness is going to get you killed someday, Bardock! Maybe I'll be able to knock some sense into you before you leave today." MorKa suddenly vanished. Bardock began looking around for him. Suddenly, MorKa had reappeared behind him and grasped his tail.

"Ha!" the man said happily. "Bet that hurts, doesn't it, little Saiyan?"

Bardock grinned, rubbing his neck. "Not really."

"What?!" MorKa started in shock. _He shouldn't even be able to move. Unbelievable!_

"It kinda tickles. Will you let go now?"

MorKa smirked; then, he laughed. "You're full of surprises, Bardock. Maybe you're not as big a fool as I thought. I guess I'll go easy on you today. It's going to take some time to get accustomed to your new weighted armor."

…

When Bardock got home, he headed straight from the shower. After the refreshing cold shower, he made his way to his secret hiding place and withdrew the friezatas he had been saving. He and Torra slowly trudged back to the school. Torra waited outside, while Bardock purchased two more sets of the 3X top Low-Level armor and some white paint.

"What's in these bags, Bardock? They weigh as much as King Vegeta."

Bardock grinned. When they got home, Bardock instructed Torra to help him paint all three armors white. Torra chuckled.

"So, you're still going to wear the white. I don't get it, Bardock. Don't you feel honored to wear the top low class armor?"

Bardock scoffed. "No. Why should I?" he snapped as he grabbed the plastiwelder and began removing half of the pointed shoulder cuffs from two of the armors, making them look slightly less like the disguised armor of a top classman. He left the cuffs on his, hoping that the compromise would be noticed by MorKa. While he painted the half cuffs on the other armor white, he left the shoulder cuffs on his green.

"That one's yours," Bardock pointed. Torra's jaw fell open.

"That's a top classman suit, Bardock! I can't wear that! You're crazy!"

Bardock grinned as he fought to get back into his. Torra stared.

"Why are you having such a hard time getting it on, Bardock?"

"Haven't you noticed, yet? Try to lift one."

Torra strained as he slowly lifted the suit. "Man! That thing weighs like a baby Vegephant!"

Bardock chuckled. "Yeah, so once you get used to the weight, imagine how strong you'll be."

Torra gasped. Then he laughed. "I see. Misery loves company, eh, Bardock?"

Bardock glared at his friend. "I'm not going to leave you behind, Torra! If I wear this every day, what do you _think_ will happen? I'll surpass you, Torra."

"Ha! You're already past me, Bardock."

"Well, if this works out, then at least you'll be able to keep up. And don't forget, you promised to help me get ready for Cold Intermediary." He reached over to begin painting the gloves and boots when a small child shot out and bit him on the arm. Bardock screamed.

Letting go, the small mournful creature looked up at him with a small, satisfied smile. Torra roared with laughter.

Bardock glared at her. "What was _that_ for?!"

"I claimed you, Bardock," Kari said quietly. Torra snickered.

"Huh?" Bardock said, rubbing his mildly bleeding arm.

"I claimed you. You belong to me. You're my mate." Torra was now hysterical with great sobbing guffaws.

Bardock looked at her in horror as comprehension took over. She winced at his response, her eyes swam with tears.

"Please don't be mad at me." She choked on a sob.

Bardock had to smile at her. She was so sweet and innocent. He placed his hand on her head. "Hey, don't worry about it. It's too late to regret. But we're a little young for mateship. Do me a favor and grow up a little, okay?"

The child nodded happily and scurried from the room.

Torra grinned. "Awww…how sweet! Oh, this is great. You're only eleven and you're already my brother-in-law. You're bonded to my baby sister!" Torra cackled.

Bardock punched him in the arm. "Shut up."

Torra nodded at the other armor through his tears. "So, who gets to wear that one?"

"Fasha," Bardock said quietly.

Torra smiled happily. The fact that he had doled out extra friezata to get Fasha an armor set showed that he thought a lot about Torra.

* * *

MorKa growled as he approached their table. "What do you think you're wearing, Bardock?"

Bardock smirked. "It's the same armor, MorKa. Personally, I don't see what the big deal is. I only painted it."

"You what?!"

"I painted it. Don't look so upset. I left the shoulder cuffs green, so you can feel free to continually humiliate me because of my Low-Level status."

Glaring at Bardock, his eyes popped toward Fasha and Torra, feeling tempted to carry out his promise to beat them. He shot them a double take. Both Torra and Fasha were wearing what was unmistakably a cut down and painted version of Bardock's armor. He gestured at them.

"Is this some kind of joke? What are they doing wearing top classman armor?"

Bardock shrugged. "The armor is weighted, right?"

MorKa smirked. "Oh, I see. You think that you can improve their fighting strength by allowing them to wear it, hmm?"

Bardock glared. "They're not breaking the dress code!"

MorKa grinned. "You're as stubborn as ever, boy. Tell you what. Since I'm feeling a little generous…and your friends want to be sooo much like you, they can come to our little class as well. Let's see how they put up with the pressure and rigors of being top classmen, hmm?"

Bardock winced as Torra and Fasha shifted uncomfortably. None of them had anticipated that.

…

MorKa grinned as he passed ZorLa. "You were right. Bardock took the bait. He bought armors for both of his little friends. I'm gonna have so much fun pummeling them."

ZorLa smiled knowingly at him. "Just be sure not to kill any of them. It would be most counterproductive if one of our little test subjects died. Did you use the stripped-down power rater? We don't want to alert anyone of our experiment yet."

MorKa smirked. "Without the armor, his current reading is at four hundred. Torra and Fasha aside, he outstrips the nearest Low-Level by one hundred eighty-six. I'm not sure if he's aware that he has surpassed some of the lower leveled Elites. It's almost hard to believe this kid barely scored a five on his infantile. According to analysis, Bardock should only be at around one hundred."

ZorLa nodded. "I was surprised at his abilities even last year. Did you know that little runt subdued Nordack in front of the entire student body the first day of school last year?"

"No Way! Nordack's base power level was nine hundred…second only to SorKala!"

ZorLa chuckled. "I know, but I saw it. I watched from my office. Bardock used the after image technique to get behind him and grab his tail."

"Oh yeah, I forgot. I tried that on Bardock, and it didn't work…he laughed at me! I can't seem to figure out how he did that!"

ZorLa nodded. "SorKala told me. Bardock said to him that Nordack's loss was his entire fault because he failed to train his tail like his father had asked."

"Train his tail? Is such a thing even possible?"

ZorLa nodded. "SorKala began training his tail after Bardock had mentioned it. After SorKala told me, I began training on mine. It seems to work."

MorKa shook his head. "Just when I thought I had the little worm figured out."


	5. Bardock's Loss and Gain

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z is the intellectual and financial property of Akira Toriyama. I receive no financial compensation for writing fanfiction. I merely get the fantastical pleasure of playing in his world, and you get the pleasure..or displeasure…of reading the result.

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**Chapter Five: Bardock's Loss and Gain**

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Bardock, Torra, and Fasha slowly trudged from Frieza Star Academy. It was their sixth week in the rigorous top classmen training provided by MorKa. Although it had become considerably easier to move in their weighted armor, MorKa had increased their training load substantially.

Fasha moaned. "This stinks. At _this_ point even my _hair_ hurts."

Bardock grinned. "But think, Fasha! We are now officially outstrip all the other Low-Levels by seventy points now. Our hard work is beginning to pay off. If we keep this up, we'll hit five hundred fifty by the end of the year. No second year Low-Level has ever achieved that! Maybe when Father gets back, he won't be so ashamed to be seen in public with me."

"He shouldn't be ashamed of you anyways, Bardock," Torra said flatly. "Anyone with half a brain can see that you should have been an Elite. You have even surpassed some of the lower leveled Elites."

"So? Even _you_ are starting to surpass those guys. They are completely lacking in motivation of any sort. It's their fault I've surpassed them. They should train harder."

Torra shook his head resignedly. He could tell that he wasn't going to convince Bardock that he was exceptional.

The group continued their weary yet happy banter. They had made it to the house gate. What surprised him was that Nordack wasn't on the lawn. Typically, every day after school, Nordack had taken to training out on the lawn, where SorKala had once been. Bardock and his friends watched happily, sometimes participating in honor of the wonderful memories. But Nordack was nowhere in sight. They combed the house before making it to the back yard. Nordack was crumpled in the middle of the backyard, clutching a delivery canister. The ground occasionally shook. Bardock approached warily.

"Nordack?"

Nordack swallowed hard. "Fa-father's gone, Bardock," he said thickly, but didn't cry. "He was killed on the planet Kanassa."

Bardock stood silently, completely horror-struck. _Father is gone…Father is dead…Father is never coming back._

"Bardock?" Torra hesitated as Bardock turned away. In an instant, Bardock pulled his hair and screamed. His grief exploded with the force of a bomb, knocking Torra, Fasha, and Nordack away and disturbing the foundation of the house. All three looked on from a distance with a mixture of pity and alarm as the small Saiyan's anguish washed over them in large uninhibited torrents. Small children exited the house in fear as the ground continued to quake and the sound of Bardock's screams filled the house, the prairies, and the forests nearby. After ten minutes the boy collapsed from exhaustion, driving his fingers deep into the Vegetan soil, shaking silently. He recalled how he had wished Father to not be ashamed of him. Now he'd give anything to have the ashamed father back. Nordack pulled his brother gently from the deep crater and sat with him on the lawn.

Slowly, Bardock's face lifted up. His eyes were shining with unshed tears. Angrily, he pushed the wet from his face. "Stop it!" He shouted at himself.

"It's okay, Bardock. You can cry," Nordack said softly.

Bardock bared his teeth. "Saiyans…don't…cry," he said between his clenched teeth. Then he bellowed, "SAIYANS DON'T CRY!" Nordack grabbed his baby brother in a fierce hug. Bardock resisted, kicking and reiterating loudly that Saiyans didn't cry. The two struggled for what seemed like hours before Bardock gave in and sobbed in his brother's arms. Nordack looked up at the others. All faces were now wet. Silently, Nordack allowed his own tears to come.

...

All had been quiet for a while. An unnatural quietness had stolen across the SazDack compound. The Vegetan Homeland guard landed softly in the backyard. Nordack slowly rose, leaving Bardock with his concerned friends. The squad surrounded the group. The leader addressed Nordack.

"Don't move! We are here to investigate a sizable power reading in this area. We know that no one in this area should possess such a power."

Nordack frowned. He glanced at Bardock. Perhaps it wouldn't be safe for anyone to know how strong Bardock was becoming. He replied haughtily, "Why should you be troubled with us? I _am_ an Elite. Could it be possible that _I_ made the disturbance?"

The guard smirked. "Are you saying that _you_ caused our scouters to pick up a power level of four thousand? Your power level's only at fourteen hundred, kid."

Nordack flinched and looked back at Bardock in shock. _Bardock at four thousand?! That's impossible…even for an Elite at his age! But their scouters couldn't be collectively malfunctioning. So it's true, but how is that possible?! Bardock scored at Low-Level range as a baby!_ Nordack quickly collected himself and faced the scout. "Our father just died! You'll forgive us if we seem to be a little…_emotional_?" Nordack spat, his anger boiling to the surface. The scout winced as his scouter rating of the teenager automatically shot up to two thousand, three hundred.

"Oh. I see. You are SazDack's children. I heard about your father. I am sorry for your loss. Please excuse us." The scout and his men retreated quietly from the area. Nordack shook his head. Lately, there had been an increase of policing activity on Vegeta.

* * *

Bardock retreated into his school work. He worked constantly at school and retreated to his room at home. Strangely enough, even though Bardock was fully applying himself, he made little progress in training. Both ZorLa and MorKa had noticed the change. They each tried different approaches to pull Bardock from his grief, but all to no avail.

Since that day, Bardock resisted all physical closeness of everyone. He pulled away from Nordack, brushed off pats on the shoulder, and wrestled from embraces of any kind, as if the physical contact itself was hurting him. After a few months, Bardock refused to leave his room except for school.

Bardock sat on the edge of his bed. Torra and Fasha were in the yard sparring. A small, mournful, female creature sauntered into the room.

Bardock sighed. "Not _now_, Kari."

"I brought you some juice, Bardock," she said anxiously.

"Oh. Thanks." He accepted the glass and sat it on his knee without taking a drink. Kari burst out into sobs and collapsed on the floor.

"Kari, what-"

"I hate seeing you so unhappy, Bardock," she gasped between wails, "I wish I could do something-"

"You can't. My father's dead. There's nothing _anyone_ can do."

Kari nodded miserably. "I know. When my father died-"

Bardock blanched. "But Kari, your father is still alive."

Kari shook her head. "Father _died_ when mother did. He was nice once. But when Mother died, he started drinking. He turned into the monster you fought when you came and got us. He was horrible. He was worst to Torra. Probably because Torra resembles her the most." She reached over and grasped his hand. Her touch of the bitten hand sent chills throughout his body.

"You saved us, Bardock. Now it's our turn to save you." She wrapped her arms around Bardock and embraced him in a child's hug. Bardock winced from the contact but made no attempt to remove her. The pain washed over him in fresh torrents. He slumped from the bed onto the floor with a small thud. He lay there, staring in the distance, refusing to look her in the eye. His eyes filled with unshed tears. He shook them away. He felt so weak, so inadequate. He hated anyone seeing him this way. He turned away.

"Go away, Kari," he said thickly.

Kari hiccupped. "Why?"

He glared at her. "_How_ am I supposed to protect you when I am _so_ pathetic? I'm nothing more than a sniffling Low-Level _weakling_! How could you want a mate like _that_?!" Then, he choked. "Just go away."

Kari flung herself at his waist. "Please don't send me away, Bardock. I'll be better. I'll be the best mate you could ever hope for-"

Bardock roughly grabbed her arms and wrenched her away. "YOU'RE JUST A KID! _I'm_ just a kid! A pathetic, worthless, Low-Level scum-"

"_STOP_ IT! Stop saying that! Bardock…_Bardock_! You are not worthless. One day, you will be the strongest Saiyan fighter!"

"Huh! What good is that? Another Elite for Frieza's band of merry men?"

Kari bit her lip. "One day, even _Frieza_ will be unable to ignore you."

Bardock stared. "What's this nonsense?"

"There are different kinds of strength, Bardock. One day, Frieza will regret not paying attention to them all."

Bardock snorted and got to his feet. Turning, he walked toward his window and examined his reflection. Although he'd never admit it to her, Kari's comments had got him thinking. For a pathetic sad creature, Kari was quite intelligent. As he thought back on it, Bardock realized he had always talked with her freely when he couldn't to the others.

"You...do you think I'm a fool for defying the class system?"

Kari grabbed him and spun him around. Her sudden fierceness surprised him. "You'd be a fool _not_ to," she said with a spark that Bardock had never seen or heard from her. "Do you know of a better way to honor your father than to prove that you're not just another _typical_ pathetic Low-Level?"

"You think I should try to surpass MorKa or SorKala?"

Kari gave a small sardonic grin. "No. Your ideal should be King Vegeta."

Bardock spluttered. "What?!"

"Could you respect yourself if you settled for anything less than the best?"

"I guess not." Bardock suddenly grinned.

"What?"

"I can't wait to tell Torra what you just said. He's going to freak."

* * *

Only a few months of school remained, and once more Bardock was making progress in leaps. Kari's comments of honoring his father became ingrained into his core, developing a moral compass of sorts. From then on he was always asking himself whether something would be pleasing or honorable to his father or family. Bardock's new motivation developed a new gravity and motivation within him to keep pushing, and the results were staggering. By the end of the school year, his resting power reading scored six hundred twenty-seven. Torra and Fasha, meanwhile, enjoyed having their friend back, even if he was a little different than before. MorKa became so pleased with the turn of events that he presented the three with 6X weighted armor to celebrate.

Torra's eyes popped with the news. "You're insane! Are you trying to kill us?!"

MorKa chuckled deviously. "Probably. You are to wear the armor every day during the holidays. Oh, and _do_ enjoy your summer. Because next year, I'm going to stop babying you." Bardock grinned appreciatively. He had grown accustomed to MorKa's rough exterior.

As they trudged the slowest they had ever had home, Bardock made a stop at the local Saiyan general store.

Torra smirked. "Oh, goody. More paint. But Bardock, what's with the blue and pink paint?"

Bardock grinned mischievously. "You'll see."

"And why didn't we leave the old 3X armor at school? We don't need it anymore."

"Actually, we do."

"Hmph. Then you should have to carry all the 6X armors. My arms are killing me."

"You're only carrying one set. I'm carrying a set _and_ the paint. Just consider it endurance training."

"_Bar_dock!!!"

Bardock chuckled.

...

They took everything to the shop they had painted the armors before. Torra dropped his armor unceremoniously onto the ground before collapsing beside the pile. "Phew! Glad we don't have to do anything else today."

"Actually, we have to paint everything," Bardock said in a haunting monotone.

Torra glared and growled in exasperation, "_Bar__dock_!"

Fasha lifted her old armor off. "What are we doing with the old armor, Bardock?"

Bardock shrugged. "That will be your job, I think. Trim one pink and the other two blue."

Torra sat up. "For TorK, Musa, and Kari? I see."

Bardock nodded. "It's time to get them ready for Frieza Star."

Torra stiffened. "We don't have the money. If Mama hadn't already paid my tuition, I wouldn't be going."

"You said Kari tested low Elite on her infantile. If she trains hard enough, she can test in. I'll cover Musa and TorK. Father willed me a third of the estate's fortune. What am _I _going to do with the money? I already have property. Besides, I have other plans with the money, as well. Nordack says he doesn't mind."

"Huh?"

"I'm going to open a summer school for Low-Levels."

"What? Bardock, that's crazy. Who's going to pay to place Low-Levels at a summer school?"

Bardock nodded. "We'll set it up similar to Frieza Star. Those with proper motivation to set goals for themselves and excel will get in on scholarships. When the parents see how much we can improve their children, they'll want to send their children to us. Anyone who scored elite status will be required to pay, and we won't take it easy on them just because it comes so easily. SazDack Academy will be a challenge to all who come. Your siblings will be the first pupils."

"SazDack, huh? But how are we going to set this up, Bardock? It sounds complicated."

Bardock nodded. "ZorLa has already agreed to help with the organizing. She's going to teach us how to file. She's also donating some doctored scouters to us. We'll be able to read power levels without interference from Frieza Corps. Personally, I don't see why they would have a problem with it, anyways. We are giving them a better, more powerful army."

Fasha frowned thoughtfully. "Well, Saiyans are pretty powerful already. Maybe Frieza fears an uprising."

Torra nodded. "He's also heard the legends. Maybe he fears one of us will become a Super Saiyan."

Bardock snorted. "Yeah, a Low-Level Saiyan becoming a Super Saiyan. Come on, Torra! Even I am not _that _unrealistic."

"Why not?" A mournful voice said as a short little girl stepped into view.

Torra opened his mouth to tell Kari to go away, but Bardock laughed. "And they say _I_ am an idealist! Kari, no Elite has become a Super Saiyan in over a thousand years-"

"So a Low-Level can't because an Elite can't? I happen to agree with Frieza on this. Perhaps he is beginning to see other strengths, after all."

Bardock frowned. "What do you mean?"

Kari nodded seriously. "Your father was a Super Elite. Kanassa is considered a mid-level planet. If physical strength is the only thing that matters in battle, why was he defeated?"

Bardock winced at the example, but thought about it. "So, the Kanassans had an advantage that was greater than physical power? Is _that_ what you are saying?"

"I'm saying that _some_ things can be more dangerous than brute force. Things that can cause a Low-Level child to defeat an experienced Elite. Things that can cause a Low-Level to be respected and admired, even by his betters. Things that can make the most powerful fighter in the universe paranoid and anxious," she smiled her tiny smile. "But you were talking about a school."

Bardock jumped. "Oh yeah!"

"But before we leave the subject, maybe we should change your ideal away from King Vegeta."

"Too hard for me to achieve?" Bardock picked up a nearby glass of water and took a gulp.

"Hardly. I think you should strive to become a Super Saiyan instead."

Bardock spewed his mouthful in surprise.

"What?!" Torra and Fasha shouted together in a peculiar harmony.

Kari strode over to the pink-trimmed armor and managed to pull it on with a little effort. "That's what _I_ am going to do. I'm going to become a Super Saiyan."

Torra nudged Bardock. "I think you've had a bad influence on her."

Scratching the back of his head, Bardock chuckled sheepishly.

* * *

A week after Frieza Star School closed for the summer, SazDack Academy Summer Enrichment Program opened for the first time with a surprise: fifteen enrollees! Unknown to Bardock, many of the Low-Levels had already told their parents about Bardock's notoriety at Frieza Star. With the exception of Kari, Musa, and TorK, every single candidate's parents had insisted on paying the tuition for attendance. On the day that the students arrived, Bardock examined the forms. He had two low Elites on the roll; everyone else were Low-Levs or Mid-Levs. He broke them into teams of three, separating the two Elites. One had accepted the decision. The other had not.

"I'm an Elite, you Low-Level scum! I expect a challenge. Put me with the other Elite!" Fourteen-year-old Nappa had challenged Fasha.

Bardock approached with a small smile. "Of course you expect a challenge, sir. At SazDack Academy Summer Enrichment, we strive to ensure that all students achieve the desired results."

The mohawked teenager sneered. "I'm only here because a certain mistake of my mother's bragged about this stupid place. I wouldn't be here if my mother hadn't insisted I accompany the scum."

Bardock smiled politely as he handed Nappa a set of armor. "Here's your armor, Nappa. Enjoy your first lesson."

With a scoff, Nappa threw his arm out to receive the armor. As soon as Bardock released the armor, the weighted garment hit the ground with a loud thud, its unwary holder toppling on top of the mass amidst loud giggles.

"Damn! What's with this _armor_?"

Bardock smiled. "This is your uniform. It weighs four times as much as you do. You will wear it except when you are practicing hygiene. Yes, that includes sleep. Once acclimated to its new weight, you will be given heavier armor. Perform your usual training exercises and attend all classes. At the end of the summer, if you are still dissatisfied with the results of the training, feel free to come and take it out on me. Oh, and welcome to SazDack Academy."

Bardock hitched a sarcastic grin as he strode away from the bewildered giant fourteen-year-old, who was just remembering that Bardock had lifted the armor with one hand. "_Damn_," he said again, this time in a whisper.

But there would be no complaints. The first students to attend came to school daily without miss, and the student body swelled to thirty by the middle of summer. Enrollment was shut off then, and a waiting list had been drawn up for the next summer.

Before the classes, the entire student body would engage in exercises modeled by Bardock. Then, they would split into three different blocks. The ones that were energy aware traded off between flying lessons, tail training, and technique developing instruction. The ones who had little or no energy knowledge were left to Fasha to be taught how to control their energy and tail training.

By the end of summer, the weakest, TorK, had gained eighty in power reading and the strongest, Nappa, had gained three hundred. All had mastered tail-training and were completely energy aware. Even Bardock was impressed by the progress in three months and began considering extending to an after school program. That, of course, would require more teachers.

Bardock decided to move Fasha to higher leveled training classes. Fasha's replacements would be Kari and Musa. Bardock had Fasha teach tail-training and mentor the new teachers. Then, he approached Nappa.

"What's in it for me?" Nappa asked haughtily, as Bardock had anticipated he would.

"Well, the pay wouldn't be much, but you would get the experience of teaching, keep the acknowledgement for all the techniques you develop, and you can use this as a reference for your future aspirations to become a Palace Guard. You also get free instruction should any of the teachers discover new innovations."

Nappa's facial muscles twitched. "So, what _is _the pay?"

Bardock nodded. "You get two hundred vegetos a month, food, and unlimited weighted armor replacement."

"Hmm. _That_ sounds good. Two hundred vegetos? That's great! I've never had that much money before. My parents…well," he brought his voice down to a whisper, "never had that much money. They're Low-Levs. Tell anyone, and I'll kill you."

Bardock shrugged. "I don't see why you're so embarrassed, really. The only thing that keeps a Saiyan down is their own self-perception. That and the _stupid_ infantile testing system. I think a Saiyan should be allowed to decide how strong he is for himself. That is the true purpose of SazDack Academy. _You_ are your only limiting factor. There are no levels here…only Saiyans."

Nappa shook his head. "You are one weird Saiyan, Bardock. Can't say I agree with you, but I'll teach your class…as long as I get stronger, and as long as you pay and feed me."

Bardock saiya-saluted him. "It's a deal."


	6. A King's Ransom

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z is the intellectual and financial property of Akira Toriyama. I receive no financial compensation for writing fanfiction. I merely get the fantastical pleasure of playing in his world, and you get the pleasure..or displeasure…of reading the result.

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**Chapter Six: A King's Ransom**

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* * *

As the summer came to a close, ZorLa came to visit Bardock.

"Hello, Bardock. I hear good things about your endeavors. Do you have time to talk to me?"

Bardock nodded. "I hired some more teachers so that I could organize and manage more effectively. I only have one class a day now. That frees me up for paperwork, managing, and other whatnot. So, why don't we step into my "office?" He added with a sardonic snort. Zorla grinned as they entered the small storage shed.

"You could use a facility upgrade," she observed.

Bardock laughed, pointing to a broken metal chair. "Wanna sit?"

"Thank you, I shall," she said in mock formality. She made a neat show of sitting before hitching a serious scowl on her face. "Bardock, you _need_ to be careful."

He sighed. "Is this about the Frieza Corps again?"

"Not only that, but some other people are not going to like what you're doing. It threatens their position in Vegeta society. Maybe you should have your trainees and their parents to keep this quiet."

He shifted. "You mean that we not tell anyone about the program?"

"Exactly. I have already had a talk with all of the parents involved in the school and on the waiting list. They agree with me. You need to talk with your students…today. Tell them that the classes need to be kept secret. As it is, some top officials already know about it. MorKa said that he had been warned to stay away from you outside of your scheduled classes together. He's going to have to officially name Fasha and Torra as top classmen to avoid suspicion."

Bardock stared. "What's going on, ZorLa? I'm getting the feeling this is much deeper than our simple desires to become stronger. Why all these secrets?"

"I told you-"

"Actually, you haven't told me much of _anything_. I'm beginning to think this entire thing was planned. It was far too easy for me when I first started Frieza Star. I somehow avoid punishment for vandalizing school property. The next year a Super Elite instructor who openly and publicly hated me names me as a candidate to receive his instruction. He accepts my insubordinations with very little question and even encourages some of my rebellion, which is most irregular, considering that he tried to kill me for rebelling on several different, previous occasions."

A long silence followed. Finally, she said, "I always knew you were a clever little Saiyan. Yes, there is something deeper at work here, Bardock. Something important. But I need you to do something, Bardock. Don't ask too many questions. You'll discover the meaning of these events in time. But in the meantime, use these events to your advantage. Become stronger, and encourage others to do the same. And be careful. We don't want Frieza getting wind of any of this."

"But why? Why isn't Frieza encouraging the best race of fighters to get stronger? He…isn't afraid of us, is he?"

"We're not sure. But we don't want him trying to figure out why we're focusing on our weaker fighters now. He might get suspicious. And we all know what happens to those Frieza considers a threat."

Bardock frowned as ZorLa jumped into the Vegetan skies and flew away. He hated not knowing what was going on. But the day was still young, and he had work to do. He trotted off to the filing system with a sigh.

* * *

The first day of Bardock's third year at Frieza Star approached rapidly. Soon, Bardock and Torra were trotting the familiar pathways toward the school. Suddenly, they were surrounded by six men in solid black armor with helmets that concealed their faces.

"Stay where you are!" one commanded.

Bardock glanced around nervously. He could tell by the build of them that they were all Elites. "Why? What do you want with us?"

The one who spoke, clearly angry with Bardock's questioning, lunged at the boy. Bardock's image faded; a small hand shot toward the attacker's tail. Bardock's prey also vanished; the child felt a powerful kick to his mid torso. He collided with another guard and bounced off, hitting the ground. The guards laughed as the attacker approached Bardock's motionless body.

Reaching down, the attacker picked up his prey by his tail. "Hmph. Now, how does it feel to have _your _tail grabbed, Low-Level scum?"

Bardock's eyes snapped open. "It's not all _that_ bad." He used his tail as a swing, planting a kick into the surprised Saiyan's face, who immediately let go and skidded twenty feet, but managed to stay upright. He stood in a daze, rather shocked that his tail grab had been practically useless. One of the masked men chuckled appreciatively.

"Bardock!" Torra shouted as the laugher's hand shot out from behind and clamped down on Bardock's shoulder. Pain and another strange sensation surged throughout Bardock as he fought the new threat, but it was no use. He was quickly losing control over his own body as a painful numbness stole over his extremities. The guard who had chuckled before spoke with a hint of laughter in his voice. It was a coarse voice, but not unpleasant.

"Take it easy there, Bardock. You have a very important appointment to keep." Bardock collapsed.

...

It was strange. Bardock's body was floating through the air in someone else's arms. He had never been carried in such a manner before. He could hear Torra grunting softly behind them as he half-heartedly resisted his captor.

"Wh-where are you taking us?" Torra asked shakily.

"Quiet, boy!" The aggressive one snarled back at him. Apparently he was flying alongside Bardock and the one who was carrying him.

The one holding Bardock sighed. "That's perfectly all right, BeGora. He's just a scared little boy."

"I'm not little!" Torra shouted angrily. The one holding Bardock chuckled pleasantly.

"HOW DARE YOU ADDRESS THE-"

"BEGORA!" The man holding Bardock roared sharply.

"Sorry, sire-I mean, sir. Sorry, sir."

Bardock tried to speak, but couldn't move his facial muscles or tongue. All he managed was a soft moan. The one holding Bardock continued. "You boys needn't be afraid. Your lives are not in danger."

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see shortly." But it seemed like a long time. Fear sometimes tricks the mind in that way. A soft thud and cessation of wind on his body informed Bardock that they had landed.

"But that's the p-" Torra had said, but his voice had been shut off as if a hand had clamped over his mouth. Bardock had distinctly heard two syllables, but other than that, couldn't distinguish the sound. He felt a coolness wash over him as his captor carried him out of the Vegetan suns. He heard Torra being led away from him, who was now struggling and shouting in earnest. Bardock attempted to move, but he only managed to make his body lurch unpleasantly.

"Be still," his captor said calmly as his footsteps were quickened. Bardock felt his captor push a kiosk, sensed a door slide open, and felt himself and the captor make their way through the opening. Bardock felt himself being gently laid on something soft. For a few minutes, he heard rustling and clicking sounds, like his captor was changing clothes.

He heard a popping sound, like from a bottle. A strong, unpleasant smell filled his nostrils. Bardock opened his eyes and sat upright immediately, having regained control of his body. He stared at the blurry outline of his captor. He could tell that the Saiyan was wearing a gleaming, pristine, white armor with some sort of red insignia on the right breastplate. Bardock blinked. The fuzzy outline cleared somewhat, and he could make out dark brown spiky hair, facial hair, and a flowing red cape. Bardock blinked again. What he saw next caused him to cry out and topple backwards off the lounger.

"K-King Vegeta!" He said shakily.

"Ah, good! I had hoped I hadn't cause too significant brain damage from neutralizing you. It's quite a handy little technique if you want a live prisoner."

"Er, I'll try to remember that."

The king laughed heartily. "You are _one_ strange Low-Level, Bardock. Full of surprises! Your tail, for example."

Bardock shrugged. "That's not a big deal. Anybody can do that. All they have to do is train their tail."

King Vegeta's eyes snapped. Then, they relaxed. "Train their tail, huh? Like I said. Full of surprises. You understand why you are here?"

Bardock pulled an innocent face. "I failed the mathematical portion of the academic skills test?"

King Vegeta snorted. "A hundred and twenty-six isn't a failing score, Bardock, and kings have better things to do than to police academic test scores. But that's beside the point. You know as well as I do about your suspected illegal activities you participate in outside of school."

"Oh yeah! Would you mind _not_ telling my brother that I snort Choko-Nut Bars after school? He'd kill me if he found out I was addicted to caffeine." He grinned in mischief.

King Vegeta frowned. "I am serious, Bardock! I'm referring to the illegal gathering of Saiyans for unregistered training purposes outside the parameters of Frieza enterprises."

"Oh. Um-"

"What? No witty comeback for that one?"

"I'm working on it!"

"Well, while you are thinking of another way to attempt to flout my authority, permit me to inform you that we have been tracking your movements for quite some time now. Thirteen years, to be concise."

"Wha-what?! How could you know that I would start a training program for Low-Levels _that_ far back?! Wow! _I_ didn't even know!"

King Vegeta grinned. "Well, that's because Frieza Star has been grooming you for the role for the past two years."

Bardock blinked stupidly.

"Three year ago, I was informed by Vegetan scientists that there was a possibility that infantile scoring was a somewhat inaccurate method of testing Saiyan potential. After close observation of some test subjects, we observed that if Low-Levels were pushed in their training, that their power levels could be improved to some degree. We decided to devise an experiment involving one of the Saiyan children and a group of Low-Level children.

"We would precondition the selected child to despise the power classing system and then insert the child into a setting where the class system was incessantly implemented, hoping that the child would see and fill the need for leadership among the Low-Levels. The child would then be supplied the tools and events needed to gain the classmates trust and admiration whenever the need arose. A few of the instructors would offhandedly mention the need for more motivation and instruction within the Low-Levels, slowly building the foundations within the selected child to act.

"_You_ were the child, Bardock. When you were an infant, we tested you for physical and mental prowess, because although the infantile occasionally misses potential, it never tells us someone has talent when they do not. You were considered as a possible candidate because you were parentless."

"What?! My father-"

"You were planted into your current family. It was easy to do so, simply because you had no ties. You were placed with one of the Low-Level scientists with specific instructions to confuse your notions considering power placement. SazDack was told to appear embarrassed of you, but to enroll you into Frieza Star because of "Saiyan pride." He was told to limit your training until attendance at the school so that you would at least fit in with the other Low-Levels."

"Why wouldn't I fit in?" Bardock asked.

"You scored the highest a Low-Lev can score yet still be called a Low Level. You were borderline, a fact that could have allowed you to receive Elite power status, often depending on the generosity of the doctor. But you were predetermined to receive Low-Level status should such an event occur."

Bardock stared. "But Father said I scored five…and Father received Elite assignments! Why if he was a Low-Level?"

"We needed a higher potential Low-Lev for our experiment to be most productive. Most Low-Levels are beaten down emotionally by the time they become training age. Therefore, they don't usually put forth the effort to be anything else but Low-Levels. To witness one of their own defy the odds and succeed is a big comfort to them. It makes them want to try and achieve the same. And SazDack came to the lab whenever we gave him "assignments." The Elite assignments were just a ploy to make everyone believe SazDack was an Elite. He never conquered anything more than a Petri dish."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"We need you to know. Shortly, you are going to begin learning some new techniques to train to your pupils. It would be suspicious to you if my people appeared to you from nowhere with their training. You were already beginning to suspect something anyways, am I correct?"

Bardock nodded solemnly. "But doesn't this endanger you also?"

"As King of Vegeta, I am closest to the danger anyways. My position couldn't be more precarious. As is your position, my young friend, and those of your closer friends. I must impress upon you the gravity of this experiment. My sources tell me that Frieza is becoming worried about Saiyan's potential. It is why he frowns upon the weaker Saiyan's receiving extra attentions. It would be unwise to aggravate his unrest. Therefore, I believe it wise to tell you about the facility."

"Facility?"

"There is an energy-concealing facility beneath the SazDack estate. As your pupils' powers increase, you will need to use the facility underground as to not arouse suspicion. You will also want to plan multiple evacuation routes through the various tunnels within the compound. My sources inform me that the local law enforcement is beginning to suspect you."

Vegeta handed Bardock a ring. "If the local authorities give you any trouble, just show them this. They will know not to ask any more questions or to speak to anyone about it. Do not, however, show it to the Frieza Corps. They will most likely believe that it is a Low-Level club of testosterone-filled Saiyan adolescents. But if you show them the ring, it will implicate both of us and possibly get us killed."

Bardock sighed. "Are you sure I can't tell anyone about my power score…not even Torra?"

Vegeta nodded grimly. "I wouldn't tell my own son."

"You don't have a son," Bardock said simply.

The king frowned; then, he smirked conspiratorially. "_Things_ change. When I have a son, I'll be sure _not_ to tell him. So I am curious. Does your new found knowledge of power testing change your mind?"

"Change my mind about what?"

"About power testing."

Bardock scowled.

Vegeta laughed. "I didn't think so. You're a good man, Bardock."

* * *

Changes occurred with increasing momentum over the next few years. A few months after the kidnapping and meeting, King Vegeta appeared at the underground compound under the cover of night and his black armor to receive Bardock's tail training. King Vegeta mastered the training in less than two weeks.

Shortly, Bardock's schedule became as hectic as ever. Daily he attended Frieza Star. When he got home, his after school enrichment program awaited. Soon after, the scientists began teaching him more in the sciences. Bardock went to bed everyday exhausted. But the results were showing. By the end of Bardock's time at Frieza Star, he, Torra, and Fasha had exit scores at over a thousand each. But ZorLa had officially listed all of the Low-Levels at fifty percent of their actual ratings.

But the small steady spike in the planet's rating reading wasn't going unnoticed. A sinister presence was closely studying the collective reading from the planet with a scowl.

"Lord Frieza?" a young, handsome blue alien simpered solicitously.

Frieza smirked. "You were right, Zarbon. It seems that the planet's collective power level is steadily climbing, which would indicate, based on our records of stringent record-keeping on the Elite Saiyans, that King Vegeta has gotten the idea to secretly train the Low-Levels. A most brilliant tactic I wouldn't have thought possible of him."

"But sire, surely you could just torch the whole barrel of monkeys should they become too strong for you as a group?" Frieza examined his new teenage liaison. However rash the recruit was, Zarbon was strong and intelligent. He would prove useful in future conquests. He wasn't _bad_ to look at, either.

"Definitely, Zarbon. But I will wait. The Saiyans certainly make me plenty of money. I will wait until King Vegeta rebels in the open or until their collective power level become too powerful to ignore." _Besides, it isn't only the group threat that bothers me about them…it's that ridiculous legend that those Saiyans keep spouting. I'm sure it's just nonsense, but I have to be certain…_


	7. Stellar Pursuit

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z is the intellectual and financial property of Akira Toriyama. I receive no financial compensation for writing fanfiction. I merely get the fantastical pleasure of playing in his world, and you get the pleasure..or displeasure…of reading the result.

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**Stellar Pursuits**

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* * *

As Bardock made plans to try out for Cold Intermediary, he struggled with the many unanswered questions that filled his mind. If SazDack wasn't an Elite, how did he _actually_ die on Kanassa? What was _really_ going on that was causing Frieza to be so paranoid about even the _weakest_ members of the Saiyan race? And was he going to stay behind and train Low-Levels for the rest of his life?

Bardock rather enjoyed his 'enrichment program,' but he wanted to see some action. He was, after all, borderline. How was he supposed to prove his Saiyan worth staying around the compound and training would-be rebels of the power classing system? Of course he believed in the abilities of his students, but he also wanted a few battles in his resume. He was going to make something of himself, and nobody, _nobody_ was going to get in his way!

Bardock sighed happily as he thought of his future. In less than two years, he'd be of age. Saiyans became legal age at the age of fifteen. Elite and the children of rich Elites could choose a career path at that age. Bardock knew exactly what he wanted to do. He wanted to lead a team. That was why Cold Intermediary was so important to him. Any Low-Level that could manage to get accepted into Cold Intermediary would definitely be a prime candidate for leading a team of Low-Levels.

…

Bardock, Fasha, and Torra sat nervously in the waiting area of Cold Intermediary's President's office, waiting their turn for an interview. The door suddenly burst open, and a scowling woman came into view.

She sighed angrily. "You should go home. It's the same _every_ year. Each year I get at least _one_ Low-Level scum who thinks he can cut it here!"

For some reason, Fasha took great offense to the woman's attitude. She stood, glaring angrily. "_I'm_ first!"

Rolling her eyes, the woman stood aside as Fasha entered her office. The door slammed. Thirty seconds later, the secretary gasped as her scouter went crazy. Torra and Bardock grinned knowingly at each other. A few seconds later, the door opened and a flustered President let a smirking Fasha out.

The woman cleared her throat and spoke in an usually high voice. "Well, er, who's next?"

Torra stood, clapping Bardock on the shoulder. "We'll save the best for last." He trotted into the room. The door closed sharply. A minute later, the secretary's eyes bulged as her scouter went haywire. Bardock and Fasha exchanged smirks.

The flabbergasted President let Torra out. Bardock stood and entered the office. The room was the size of a small gymnasium.

The President scowled. "So, _you_ and your Low-Level buddies think you can keep up with the rigors of Cold Intermediary. What makes you think I should allow that? Several Elites die each year here, so-"

Bardock smirked. "If we die, then it's _our_ fault, isn't it?"

The President rolled her eyes. "Yes…that's what your friends said. Although they were considerably paler when they said it," she cackled. "I see you're made of different stuff. Let's see if your power is as impressive as your words, _Low-Level!_" She pulled her scouter on with a smirk.

Bardock widened his stance to steady his core. He didn't want to lose his footing when his power elevated. He concentrated on his pool, deciding to bring his power out slowly. The President's scouter started beeping.

She smirked. "I hope that's not the best you can do, Bardock. Because if it is, you better go home now."

Bardock's power began spilling throughout his body in earnest. He allowed the warmth to fill him as he focused…when he saw it. A twinkling star in the distance. It seemed strangely familiar to him. Curious, he reached out for it. He couldn't reach it. Using his power as a wave, he willed himself to reach it. For some reason, he found himself instinctly wanting it. The star swelled to the size of Bardock's thumbnail as he approached; he was half way there-

"**BARDOCK, STOP!"** Bardock's eyes snapped open to see a horrified woman staring at him.

Deprived of his goal, he glared at her. "What did you do _that_ for?! I was almost halfway there!"

Her eyes popped madly. "Halfway? _Halfway_?! There's no _way_ a Low-Level could have _that_ much power!"

Bardock blinked stupidly. _What_ was she talking about? He was talking about the star-

The woman recovered her faculties. She cleared her throat. "Well, er, Bardock, that will be it for today. You'll receive my decision in a few weeks. You may go."

Bardock opened the door gently. He stepped into the lobby in a daze, confusedly taking in the jaw-dropped face of the secretary. Torra punched the air, and Fasha was grinning madly.

As they exited the building, Torra rounded on Bardock. "What the _hell_ did you do in there, man? The secretary was beside herself! It must have been _incredible_! Fasha told me she hadn't reacted that way when I was in there! Oh man! This is _insane_…we might _actually_ have a chance in getting in! Awesome!"

Bardock smiled as he absently listened to his friends banter excitedly. His mind wandered to the time he had spent in the room with Cold's President, to the golden orb he had seen inside himself. He wanted it.

...

Bardock was still in a daze when they got home. He wrestled his 10X Frieza Star Top classmen armor from his body. Feeling a sudden squeeze on his tail, Bardock frowned.

"Hey, kiddo," a familiar voice said. Bardock whipped around.

"SOR**K**ALA!" Bardock shrieked in exultation and tackled the Elite, smothering him in a hug.

SorKala fell to the ground with a thud. "Whoa, Bardock! What have you been _doing_ with yourself?! That actually hurt a little!"

Bardock laughed happily. "When did you get back?"

"Last week," SorKala said sadly. "The doctors tried to regrow it-" he said, pointing down. Bardock followed SorKala's finger and gasped. SorKala's left leg was missing below the knee.

"SorKala," he choked.

"Don't worry about it, kid. At least I can fly, if I can't walk. Besides, I've been given a special assignment by King Vegeta." Sorkala said, his eyes twinkling. "I get to help you with your little 'project.'"

"_Really_? What are you going to do?"

SorKala gave a bitter smile. "Well, the King figured that even though my squad kicked me off the team, considering me a liability now that--anyways, the King still thought I was strong enough to teach your little gaggle of Low-Levels, though I hear that they can be hardly called that now."

Bardock grinned proudly. Their progress _had _been amazing. Collectively, the students enrolled in Bardock's program had gained nine thousand points in two years.

SorKala continued. "I get a fair salary, almost triple of the non-fighting classes-"

"I must remember to charge you rent," Bardock said with a growing smirk.

SorKala rolled his eyes, scoffing. "Cute. But even if you do, I'll still have plenty of resources at my disposal." The two grinned at each other. They both knew Bardock had been joking.

"So, what are you going to do with your 'wealth?'"

SorKala snorted. "Personally, I think there is no better investment than SazDack Academy for the Advancement of Low-Levels-"

"Oh, SorKala--hang on, that's not what we're called-"

"-Consider it the junior division, squirt. We're now officially accepting applicants at age nine. SALL, for short."

Bardock blinked stupidly. "That's going to require a sizable restructuring of the internal structure. Paperwork, teachers-"

"You can handle it, Bardock. I believe in you."

"On top of Cold Intermediary and-"

"_WHAT_?! You actually _applied_ to Cold's?! What makes you think you'll get in?"

Bardock's eyes twinkled as he raised his brows.

"Okay, so _maybe_ that was a stupid question, but _still_, power class still runs deep in many circles. How do you expect not to get flattened your first day there?"

Bardock cracked a wicked grin. "You forget. Tail-training isn't as popular outside SazDack compound."

SorKala smiled. "I noticed that. Even my squad were ignorant of it. I suggested it several times to them, but they were _way_ too arrogant to listen. They were completely overconfident. I think Kanassa taught them a few things."

Bardock's eyes widened. "_Kanassa_?!"

"Yeah. I gotta tell you, Bardock. Those Kanassans are _weird_."

"How come?"

"Well, when my party arrived, the Kanassans were waiting for us, like they knew we were coming! They beat the hell out of us! The moon was nowhere to be seen. I think it's as rare as ours, Bardock. But that wasn't the surprising thing, Bardock.

"They knew you. After they beat us, they completely humiliated us by carrying us to our pods and fastening us into our seats. Not only did they know your name, but they also knew I was a friend of yours. Those guys actually patched us up and let us go…as if we were no threat to them at all! The one who carried me even told me to tell you something."

Bardock felt sick, but he nodded. "What was it?"

"Follow the star."

Bardock's eyes widened. He fell to the floor, panting. "They…can't…know _that_! How?!"

SorKala stared. "I don't understand, Bardock. What does it mean?"

"There's a star inside me. It's big…and golden. It's far away from me. But something inside me wants to reach it! I have to reach it, SorKala! I have to. I don't understand it, but I have to get to it. I _have_ to have it!"

Bardock's eyes glinted with a fire so intense that it shocked even SorKala. SorKala frowned thoughtfully. _Could it be? Bardock's a Low-Level! This star business…maybe it's a plateau Bardock must reach. But why would the Kanassans be helping Bardock? I…don't understand it!_

"Bardock, listen. This star…what do you know about it?"

Bardock frowned. "Well, it's massive. It only looks small because I'm so far away from it. The only other thing I know about it is that I want it. I _want_ it!" He looked desperately at SorKala. "I _need_ to get to it, SorKala!"

"How are you going to do that, Bardock?"

"I need to train. I can get closer to it by using my energy. The more energy I obtain, the closer I can get! I have to reach it! That's it! I _know_ what my goal is! I am going to reach that star! Whatever it takes!"

* * *

_Goku's eyes shot open and he sat upright in bed. Krillin looked over at his unusual friend. The crickets were chirping in the background at Master Roshi's house. The two children had been training there for six months._

"_What is it, Goku?" Krillin asked anxiously._

_Goku blinked at the ceiling. "I donno, Krillin," he said in an innocent, childish voice. "I had a funny dream."_

"_What was it about?" Krillin asked._

_Goku yawned loudly and fell back, staring at the ceiling. "A star. A star inside me. I want it," the boy closed his eyes with a small, expectant smile._

"_Goku?" Krillin solicited. A soft snore told him that his training partner had fallen asleep once more. Krillin shook his head. Goku could be really weird sometimes._

* * *

"It's come!" Torra shouted excitedly. "The letters! They've come!" He sprinted with the canisters toward Bardock and Fasha, dropping a canister halfway. He picked it up and raced toward the table. He gave Fasha and Bardock their canisters with trembling fingers.

Bardock looked down at the black canister. He examined the address label on its hard, cool surface.

**Bardock of SazDack, LL Designation  
SazDack Compound  
Vegeta-Sai District**

Bardock breathed nervously. He had felt confident earlier concerning his acceptance at Cold's but as he faced the canister, he wasn't so sure. He shakily opened the canister and tipped its contents onto the table. A rolled up parchment hit the table with a soft clunk. Bardock picked up the parchment, looking up. His friends were staring apprehensively at him, awaiting his results.

Bardock laughed nervously, and his friends joined him. He unfurled the paper. His eyes took in the first lines.

**Bardock of SazDack, LL Designation  
SazDack Compound  
Vegeta-Sai District…**

Bardock bit his lip. He had never been this afraid of anything. What if he was accepted? What if he _wasn't_?

**Bardock of SazDack, Low-Level Designated,** the letter addressed. Bardock sighed angrily. They always had to remind him of his power status!

He read the next few words and gasped, dropping the parchment. He stared in horror at his friends, who returned his expression before quickly opening their own canisters. Fasha shrieked, Torra stammered incoherently, and the three friends stared at each other in stunned disbelief.

SorKala approached. "Hey, guys." He blinked stupidly at the silent children. "Is this some sort of game?" But his eyes narrowed as he picked up Fasha's letter.

His eyes widened as he read. "Gods!" he exclaimed loudly.


	8. Responsibilites

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z is the intellectual and financial property of Akira Toriyama. I receive no financial compensation for writing fanfiction. I merely get the fantastical pleasure of playing in his world, and you get the pleasure..or displeasure…of reading the result.

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**Responsibilities**

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* * *

Sixteen-year-old Bardock sighed as he collapsed to his knees. _It's not enough. I have to do more; I have to get stronger._ He sprawled on the ground, staring into the orange Vegetan heavens as he remembered key events of the past year.

"_So. You think you have what it takes to fly Cold Intermediary. You're going to have to prove it, Low-Level," a burly man with spiky chestnut hair sneered. "I'm going to put you through the paces. I'm not going to go easy on you, little _**worm**_."_

_Bardock's eyes burned with fire. "Work your worst," he said firmly._

_The man chuckled darkly. "Why should I do that, __**Bardock**__?" He purred Bardock's name with relish. "I don't want to kill you, yet. No. I want to have my fun __**first**__. I'm going to break you and your little Low-Level friends…_**slowly**_. You will rue the day you _**ever**_ decided to apply to this school. You will learn your place, _**Bardock**_."_

_Bardock snarled, losing his patience. "Then get _**over**_ here and teach me!"_

_The man grinned evilly. "That's the spirit!" His body disappeared in a flash of color._

Pain. Bardock, Torra, and Fasha knew nothing of the word before Cold Intermediary. The Elites taught it to them, all day, _everyday_. The result of their cold fury at the _audacity_ of Low-Levels actually being admitted into the prestigeous academy. The three frequented the healing chambers daily. Regardless, they endured. Bardock persevered, and he shared that accomplishment with those in his program.

MatPa, the three's assigned training master, pushed them relentlessly.

"_Get up, you worthless scum! If you're going to stay at this school, the _**least**_ you could do is respect your teacher enough to stop kissing the floor! __**Up**__!"_

Bardock shakily rose to his feet. He closed his eyes. The star was still there, calling, beckoning, _taunting_. He gritted his teeth and pressed his advantage. _The star. The star…_

* * *

Sixteen-year-old Goku collapsed from exhaustion. His latest attempt at reaching the star leaving him nearly completely drained.

"At it _again_?" A familiarly deep drawl taunted.

Goku grinned into the grass. "What do _you_ want?" He asked, his words muffled.

"Heh. To kill _you_. What _else_?"

"So…what's _keeping_ you?"

Goku smirked as he felt himself being lifted from the ground by the back of his gi. A green hand shoved a round object into his mouth. Goku chewed and swallowed, feeling his energy and strength return. Goku stood on his own, facing a tall, green-pallored man with pointed ears, a turban, and wearing a sharp, toothy smirk. "I want to defeat you when you're at your best," the green one explained. "Then I will beat you because I'm better than you, not because you were at a disadvantage."

"You'll be waiting a long time, then," Goku predicted good-naturedly as he turned his back, offering up a rather tempting target.

"Why do you _do_ it?" The green man asked suddenly.

Goku turned sideways and looked at him. "Do what?"

"You've let me live, day after day, since the tournament. Every day I challenge you here, and every day you defeat me," the green man acknowledged. Then, he snarled. "I hate that you do _that_, like you're suggesting that I'm not a threat to you—"

"Or maybe I'm suggesting that you're a challenge worthy of living, so I can continue to fight you," Goku pointed out.

"_Why_?" He spat. "Every day I come here to fight you, and every day I find you in a heap, before we even _fight_! What are you _trying_ to prove, Son?! _What_ is your motivation?!"

A small smile graced the young man's lips. "A star, Piccolo," he replied softly.

* * *

"Hey, Bardock! _Bardock_!" Fasha called as she waved a canister. Bardock frowned as he took it. He broke the seal and read it.

_Bardock,_

_Frieza is requesting to assemble several Saiyan Low-Level teams. Your name is on the list of potential squad leaders. Expect summons to the Launch Site. Bring your two friends._

_King Vegeta_

Bardock grinned.

Fasha cocked her head, eyeing her friend curiously. "What is it?"

"We're being assigned."

Fasha shrieked happily. "I gotta tell Torra!" She shouted and made for the house.

Bardock sighed. "And _I_ must inform SorKala. He'll need to find replacement teachers for us." Since the euphoria had quickly worn off, Bardock couldn't help but wonder when he was going to next find time to train.

…

"Form your groups! Five to a group, and team captains must pick a team name…and no, _any_ name that has Super Saiyan in it is _not_ allowed!" Bardock grinned at the groans. He didn't want that name, anyways. His goal was the _star_, after all.

Bardock watched in boredom as saiyans he didn't recognize scrambled and fought for positions for the larger, tougher-looking captains. He rolled his eyes. It was true; Bardock was small for a Saiyan, but size was no guarantee of strength. King Vegeta was proof of _that_. The defeated, weakest Low-Levels sauntered dejectedly over toward Bardock. A tall one, even for a Saiyan, with a medium brown complexion, tufts of black hair circled the top of his otherwise bald head. The other, a head shorter than Torra, was heavy set, fair complected, a bowl-shaped haircut, and a moustache framing his lips. Bardock grinned at them.

"Look at _you_. Stuck with little ole' me. _Disappointed_?" He taunted.

The bigger one glared. "Shut it, _you_! I don't have to take orders from a _shrimp_!"

Bardock smirked. "No, you _don't_. I'm feeling rather generous today, so I'll make you a deal. If I can subdue you in less than three moves, you'll do _whatever_ I say. If I _fail_, you take over as team leader."

The big man blinked in shock, before grinning broadly. "I'll _take_ that bet."

Bardock nodded. "Don't forget. If I win, you'll do _everything_ I say. We'll begin at your call."

The bigger man crouched and nodded. "Any day now, _hotshot_," the man jeered. Before he had any time to react, the giant was knocked forward with a kick to the head. He toppled over the course of thirty feet, skidding fifty feet more. He did not stir. The other Saiyan stared in shock. Bardock turned to him.

"How about you, _little_ man? Want a one-on-one sparring session with your captain?"

The man swallowed a very visible lump. "No, _sir_."

Bardock nodded happily, as though nothing extraordinary had happened. "Very good, then. Give us a name."

"The name's Shugesh. The great heap is Borgos. That is, if you didn't _kill_ him."

Bardock chuckled. "Oh, _he's_ still alive. I barely tapped him."

Shugesh stared at his new team leader as the lump moaned and struggled to his feet.

"I am Bardock. These are your teammates: Torra and Fasha. We will begin our six week furlough in the Vegeta wild lands to begin team training."

The two blinked stupidly. The one called Borgos protested. "You can't be serious! Only Elites brave the wild lands!"

Bardock, Torra, and Fasha exchanged glances and burst out in laughter. "Do we look like Elites, _newbie_?" Bardock sneered.

"Er, no."

"Yet we've trained in the wild lands for months as an extended assignment from our academy, Cold Intermediary—"

Their eyes bulged. Borgos glared. "You do _not_ attend Cold Intermediary!"

Bardock shrugged. "Think what you like. Your opinion does not bother me, but as we agreed, I won, and you _will_ obey my orders, _as_ promised, or you will find yourself my official punching bag for the rest of your career. Understood?"

"Yes, _sir,_" the man ground out.

Bardock's brows rose. "_Sir_?! I am Bardock the Saiyan. You will call me Bardock, _Saiyan_, or you will suffer my…_displeasure_. I am team leader, but we are equals. If you have an idea or opinion, give it. We are a team, and we need to behave as such, each of us acting for the team's best interests. We will serve and protect one another, coming to each other's aid and accepting aid in equal form. And, of course, you _will_ obey a direct order. In the event of my absence or death, Torra is second in command, followed by Fasha. This chain of command is subject to change, based on what is best for the group. Any questions?"

"_Ah_, Bardock's group," the officiator said as he approached. "Have you decided on a team name?"

Bardock nodded. "The _Golden._"

The alien snorted. "Think _highly_ of yourselves, don't you?"

Bardock smirked. "It isn't who we _are_. It's what we _want_." _Or what __**I **__want._

The alien raised his purple eyebrows. "_Oh_? And your logo?"

Bardock handed him a sketch of a golden star. "This symbol will carry us to our missions. Everyone will see our goal, even if they don't understand it."

"I _see_. Very well. I am finished with you. Take your men (Fasha coughed, but the alien ignored her) for your six week training. For their sake…and _yours_…there had better be a marked improvement in their power ratings."

Bardock smirked. "I think I can whip them into shape."

…

A few weeks later, Shugesh and Borgos coughed into the desert sands of the wildlands. "Hey, you think Bardock is trying to kill us?" Shugesh asked Borgos. They heard laughter overhead.

"You're _lucky_ I'm going so _easy_ on you. At _this_ point, Fasha could defeat you with both arms, tail, and a leg tied behind her back. And _that's_ saying something."

Fasha rolled her eyes. "Thanks for the compliment," she replied sarcastically.

Bardock grinned cheekily. "I lied," he whispered to her. "You don't need the other leg to beat them either, but I didn't want to _completely_ destroy their pride."

Fasha laughed. "You're too _much_, Bardock. _Oh_, and what's _this_ I hear about Kari _expecting_?"

Bardock frowned. "Quiet, _Fasha_! We're supposed to be keeping this…_professional_."

Fasha sniggered as Bardock cleared his throat.

"All right men, one more time!" Bardock called, chuckling as two groans responded their reluctance.

* * *

"Goku! I _forbid_ you to go out and fight that green _monster_ anymore!"

"Awww, come _on_, Chi-Chi," Goku whined. "How am I _ever_ going to get _stronger_ if I don't spar with Piccolo?"

A petite, young woman in Asian dress glared forcefully at her husband. "_Spar_?! _Goku_, that _monster_ wants to _kill_ you! This _isn't_ a game, you know! If _you_ die, _who's_ going to look after me and our son?"

Goku blinked stupidly. "We don't have a son."

"Yes, we _do_," she snarled. "He's right here!" She pointed at her slightly protruding belly.

Goku eyed her with horror. "ARGH! You _ate_ our son?!"

Chi-Chi fell over. She stood quickly, wiping sweat from her forehead. "I'M PREGNANT, YOU BAKA!"

Goku blinked. "Oh. Sure, Chi-Chi. Erm, what's _pregnant_? Is _that_ a food?"

She sighed in a long suffering way. "_No_, Goku. I'm _going_ to have a baby," she explained calmly. "_You're_ going to be a _daddy_."

_Blink_. _Blink_. "I am?"

She smirked. "_Yes_, Goku."

A slow, warm smile crossed his features. "Wow. I'm going to _be_ a daddy! W_ait_ 'til I tell Piccolo."

Chi-Chi fell over. "_WHAT_?! YOU ARE NOT GOING TO TELL THAT _MONSTER_ ABOUT _OUR_ SON, GOKU! I FORBID IT!"

"Aww, Chi-Chi, why not?"

"BECAUSE HE'LL EAT OUR SON!"

"Aren't you overreacting just a _little_? Come on! I'm sure Piccolo wouldn't hurt him. He just wants to kill _me_."

"GOKU!" Her shouts echoed across the mountains into the valley past the waterfall, reaching the green man's sensitive hearing.

"Ugh! I don't see how he puts up with _that_ woman!" A sadistic grin crossed his features. "So, Goku is _going_ to have a son. _Perfect._ I'll have _something_ to play with after I kill Goku. I was afraid I was going to get bored when Goku is gone. After Goku dies, I'll take the little brat and train him up. A new opponent, hopefully stronger than his idiot _father_."


End file.
